


Fifty Shades; Darker

by BlackHawksChild



Series: Fifty Shades [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: ASL, Anal Penetration With Sex Toy, And Seemingly Random Quotes, Butt Plugs, Clint Needs a Hug, Cute Kids, Deaf Clint Barton, Dom Clint Barton, Double Penetration, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Haphephobic Clint Barton, I'm Going To Hell For This, Lots of Sex, Nipple Clamps, Oral Sex, Parent Clint Barton, Parent Natasha Romanov, Past Child Abuse, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Natasha Romanov, Puns Included, Romance, Sex, Sex Playroom, Sex Toys, Shower Sex, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Sub Natasha Romanov, The Past Can Hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4683953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackHawksChild/pseuds/BlackHawksChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel to Fifty Shades of Barton. The new family are happy. But now they just have separation issues. And missions. And new arrivals… and… No… Wait. I wasn't supposed to tell you all of that. Book 3 of 6 (that's confirmed). Not Avengers: Age Of Ultron Compliant But Compliant With The Movies Before It. All trolling and flaming are reported and then ignored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adjusting Family Life

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own no rights to Avengers, Marvel or the Fifty Shades Trilogy. I'm simply writing this for my own amusement :)

_**November 2007…** _

Erik grinned as he entered his parents' bedroom. He quickly but quietly made his way over to his father's side. "Dada. Dad. Come on, you gotta get up," he whisper-shouted, poking Clint in the side. "Dad. Dad."

"Your son is awake," Natasha mumbled sleepily against her husband's chest.

"Before sunrise, he's your son," Clint replied, pushing his face further into Natasha's long red hair.

"Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. Come on, Dad," Erik chanted but Clint showed no sign of stirring. So the three-year-old climbed on to the bed and jumped on his father, promptly waking him up. "You promised," Erik said, pouting at his father.

"Okay, okay, I'm up. I'm up," Clint replied, yawning and gently moving Natasha's head off his chest. The red-head sleepily cracked an eye open, smiling softly at her husband and oldest son before rolling back onto Clint's vacated spot.

"Yeah," Erik cheered, climbing off the bed and racing out of his parent's bedroom.

Clint leaned down and pressed a kiss to Natasha's forehead as she had a small lie in. The red-head had gotten in late from a two-week mission in London, having had to infiltrate and detain an Art Dealer who was smuggling guns into America. And, no surprise, the mission had been a success. In addition to that, Erik refused to go to bed until he got to see his Mama after he found out she was coming home. He had curled himself around her the minute she had entered the apartment, refusing to let her go…

* * *

" _Mama!" Erik shouted, racing towards Natasha as she shut the apartment door behind her._

_Natasha dropped her bag and caught Erik as he leaped up into her arms. She buried her face in her oldest son's neck, inhaling his scent. She missed her boys while she'd been working._

" _I missed you, Mama," Erik mumbled, his voice tight and sad. He sounded like he was on the edge of crying. Natasha and Clint had done their best to prepare him for the times that they would be away but no preparation could stop their son from missing them. At every chance she got, the red-head had video-called Clint to talk with him and the boys. Artyom had been so surprised to see his mother on the laptop's screen, speaking to him, rather than in the same room as him. Erik had discussed everything he had done while she was working. And Clint… Clint told her how much he and their boys missed her while she was gone. And she knew from his appearance that he wasn't sleeping well either._

" _Oh, Erik," Natasha whispered, pulling away so she could cup his face with one hand, using her thumb to brush away the few tears he let fall. "I missed you too, Мой Малютка," she whispered, pressing loving kisses all over his face. "I was counting down the days, hours, minutes and seconds until I could see you and Artyom and your Papa again. Oh, Мой Малютка, I missed you so much." She pulled him against her chest again, wrapping her arms around his small body._

_Erik wrapped his small arms around his mother's neck, clinging to her as she walked into the living-room where Clint was feeding Artyom while Lucky lay in front of them, his head resting on his overlapped paws. Thankfully, Artyom was only waking once during the night, depending on the length of his naps during the day. Often, he would sleep through the night if he had long naps during the day. Natasha smiled at Clint as her husband made signs to Artyom; they had decided to teach their sons sign language in case Clint had problems with his hearing aids. Artyom was still too young to understand what they meant but Eva had informed them that starting with small signs at six-months was recommended worldwide._

_Clint looked up and smiled at Natasha. He frowned slightly when he noticed Erik clinging to Natasha but his wife shook her head slightly; she'd tell him later._

_Natasha walked over to her husband and kissed him gently in greeting, taking care not to disturb either of her sons. "Hi," she whispered against his lips._

" _Welcome home, Mrs. Barton," he replied, reluctantly pulling away so she could sit down beside him. "You okay?"_

_Natasha looked down at Erik and Artyom before looking up at Clint. "Now that I'm home, yes," she whispered, smiling softly at him…_

* * *

" _Erik missed you terribly," he informed her later on when they alone were in their bedroom. Natasha was in the middle of pulling one of his T-shirts over her mostly naked body. His words made her pause to look over at her husband. He was sitting on their bed, dressed simply in a pair of pyjama bottoms, the scars littering his torso highlighted clearly by the light of the lamp on his nightstand. Biting her lip, she walked over to him and climbed into his lap, straddling his lap. She gently ran her fingers over his body, tracing each muscle, dimple and scar. Clint no longer even tensed slightly under her touch, to which she was grateful, so she loved to trace her fingers over his body every chance she got._

_Clint ran her hands down Natasha's arms, watching her face as she moved her hands over his scarred body._

" _I missed him too. And Artyom. And Lucky. And you," she whispered, leaning forward and pecking his lips softly. She slowly brought her hands up to cup his face while he brought his hands to her hips. He slid his tongue over her cupid bow lips, smiling softly against her mouth as they kissed slowly. He gently pulled her body closer to his, wanting nothing more than to keep her close to him._

_Natasha sighed into the kiss, content to let her husband have his way with her in whatever way he wanted. She had missed him, missed his presence. It didn't mean she needed him holding her hand while she worked, or anything like that, but she did miss him simply for his presence as her husband and constant._

_Clint broke the kiss to trail his lips over her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I missed you too, Tasha," he mumbled against her skin huskily. He'd missed holding her at night, missed the two of them spending time with the boys and Lucky. But he knew that this was the life they had. That their ledgers both needed to be cleaned before they could even think about leaving S.H.I.E.L.D.'s grasp. At least, for now they couldn't._

_Slowly, Clint brought his hands down to the hem of her sleeping shirt. Pulling away, he looked up at her, finding her watching him with a knowing look. He smiled up at her sheepishly._

_"You didn't sleep while I was gone, did you?" she whispered, letting him strip her shirt off._

_Clint shook his head, not wanting to talk about his nightmares. Natasha was home now. Safe and sound. Their boys were safe. That's all that mattered to him. He brought his lips back to hers, his hands sliding up her body._

_But Natasha knew what he was trying to do. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled away from his lips. He made a noise of disagreement but didn't push her._

_"Clint. What were your nightmares about?" she asked, cupping his jaw with her left hand. She watched him as he bit his bottom lip._

_"Erik and Artyom are the same age Barney and I were when my father started beating the shit out of my mom and Barney. I was around a year-old before he started hurting me," he whispered, his eyes sliding closed at the painful memories. "I don't want to hurt you or our boys."_

_Natasha brought her arms around Clint's neck, pulling him close. He buried his face in her neck, breathing her scent deeply to calm himself. She stroked her fingers through his hair, pressing her lips against his temple lovingly. "You are not your father, Clint. You love our boys. You love me. Do you think for one moment that I'd let you be a bad father or a bad husband?"_

_Clint shook his head, tightening his arms around her._

_"Exactly, I wouldn't. Now," she started, pulling away slightly to smirk at him, "Will you finish showing me how much you missed me?"_

_Clint grinned. He leaned up and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Mrs. Barton, you have no idea how much I missed you," he whispered huskily._

_Natasha smirked and leaned down so her lips brushed the shell of his ear. "Then show me… Sir," she purred in his ear. She nipped on his earlobe teasingly, making her husband growl at her._

_He brought his hands to her panties, pulling the fabric until it was taunt before tearing it off her body. She pulled back and raised an eyebrow at him, a silent question in her already lust-filled eyes. "I'll buy you more," he answered with a grin and a shrug. He brushed his lips over hers, "Whatever ones you want."_

" _Just so you can tear them off of me," she replied, smirking at him knowingly._

" _You know me so well," he whispered, claiming her lips hungrily with a grin._

_Natasha moaned into the kiss, her hands gripping his hair firmly. Clint dragged his hands up and down her body before bringing one to cup her breast. He grinned against her lips as her breath hitched in her throat. "You're wearing too much clothes," she mumbled against his lips, bringing her hands down to pull at his pyjama bottoms._

_Clint grinned and lifted Natasha up so she could pull his bottoms down, lifting his own hips as her hands pulled on the fabric. She threw them onto the floor before pushing him down onto the bed. She cocked her head to the side, smiling down at her husband. "What's wrong, Sir?" she whispered, sliding a hand to his chest._

_Clint grinned and dragged his eyes over her body straddling his. "Nothing's wrong. Just enjoying the view," he replied cheekily._

_Natasha smacked his chest playfully before leaning down and kissing him chastely. She moaned as Clint slid one hand between her legs, his fingers trailing between her lower lips teasingly._

_"You're so wet, Natasha," he whispered softly, almost in awe._

_"It was a long two weeks," she replied after a husky gasp. "I don't need any foreplay tonight," she added._

_Clint lifted her and sat up. "Take control tonight, Natasha," he whispered, surprising his wife slightly. But she nodded and reached between them, gripping him firmly and placing the head of his length at her entrance._

_She kissed him softly as she sunk down on his length. She whimpered at the slow stretch of her walls around his cock. She pulled away from his lips, bringing her mouth the crook of his neck. She sucked and nipped on his skin as she waited a moment to adjust to Clint inside her._

_Clint kissed along the length of Natasha's neck, inhaling her scent at the same time. He wrapped his left arm around her waist while he used his right hand to take one of her hands, interlacing their fingers._

_Natasha slowly rocked her hips, her free hand gripping his shoulder as she moved. She gasped as Clint planted his feet flat against the mattress. He went deeper inside her at the new angle. "Clint," she gasped, the archer dropping his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. "Fuck. Yes. Yes. Yes," she moaned, her walls fluttering around her husband._

_Clint switched his lips to her other breast, nipping on her pert nipple teasingly. She moaned her approval, making Clint grin. He slipped his left hand between them, his fingers finding her clit easily._

_Natasha's hips stuttered as Clint played with her clit. Her eyes slid closed from the addition of his calluses, and she moaned his name sinfully, her head falling back in pleasure._

_"Come on, Tasha. I want to feel you come around me. You going to come on my cock?" he whispered, nipping and sucking his way up her chest until his lips reached her ear. "I couldn't stop thinking about you coming around me when we had the video-calls late at night. Please let me feel you come around me again, Tasha," he whispered huskily in her ear._

_Natasha couldn't help herself. She bit Clint's shoulder to muffle her scream as she came hard around his cock, her walls fluttering and clenching tightly._

_Clint wrapped both arms around Natasha's waist before slowly rolling them over. He kept himself deep inside her as he rolled them, only pulling out and thrusting back inside her when Natasha was on her back, prolonging her orgasm._

_Natasha brought both hands up to Clint's shoulder blades, moaning and muffling her screams of pleasure as he started to speed up his thrusts. Each movement of his hips sent his cock against every sweet spot inside her. She knew from the look he had given her after her shower earlier that he wanted to give her a few orgasms. Despite her saying she was jetlagged._

_Clint hooked his arms under Natasha's knees, holding her ankles and kneeling. He took her earlobe between his teeth and speeding up the movement of his hips until Natasha was shivering from the pleasure of a second orgasm. Their new position had the red-head convulsing in pleasure, not able to think coherently as he kept up his thrusts._

_"Clint. Fuck. Please. Yes. Clint," she moaned, tossing her head back as he sucked hard on the skin of her neck._

_Clint growled against her neck appreciatively and brought one hand between them, pinching her clit. "One more, Tasha. One more," he promised, kissing his way up her neck. "Come for me, Tasha. Just one more."_

_Natasha's eyes clouded over and she nodded, clenching her thighs around Clint's waist, as best she could with one of his hands still clasping her ankle, her free leg finding its place over his hip. "Clint. Clint," she murmured hoarsely, her fingers finding his hair, nails digging into his scalp. She was so close._

_Clint suddenly thrust hard inside her, sending Natasha into a strong orgasm. Three was all he could give her tonight. He'd make sure to give her more during the next few days. She almost screamed his name as she climaxed around him, his mouth claiming hers before her voice could be heard. Her fluttering walls brought Clint into his own orgasm, the archer thrusting two, three more times before he finally came himself. He collapsed on top of her, their lips meeting slowly as they calmed down..._

* * *

_Natasha smiled sleepily as Clint lifted her onto his chest, having cleaned both of them and helped her back into her nightshirt while putting back on his on pyjama bottoms. She nuzzled his bare chest, her nose pushed firmly against his sternum. "I missed you," she murmured against his chest._

_Clint ran his fingers gently through her hair. "I missed you too, Tasha," he murmured, pulling her leg over his hip and resting his hand on her thigh. She had one hand hooked under his shoulder while her other one rested over his heart. He'd missed her. And these moments where he felt like the King of the world, with his Queen and sons safe and sound in their home. Not that he'd ever tell her in those exact words - she laughed off any fairy-tale settings he used to describe their lives._

_"Sleep, Clint. I'm here now. You can sleep now," she ordered sleepily._

_Clint nodded his agreement. "I love you, Mrs. Barton," he whispered, bringing his hand from her hair down to her waist, pulling her closer._

_Natasha smiled. "I love you too, Mr. Barton," she whispered before letting her exhausted body submit to sleep, her husband's heartbeat providing her a calming lullaby..._

* * *

Clint followed Erik out into the kitchen. The three-year-old had insisted on making his Mama breakfast the morning she got home. He easily climbed up onto a chair beside the kitchen counter, smiling back at his father. Clint smiled and walked over to his oldest son, thankful that he had been able to get Artyom before Erik made it to the kitchen. Artyom was babbling away wordlessly to himself, sometimes putting the beak of his favourite stuffed toy Hawk in his mouth.

Placing Artyom in his high chair, in his line of sight, Clint joined Erik at the counter. "What are we going to make Mama this morning, Buddy?" the archer asked, grinning as the three-year-old frowned in concentration.

"Pancakes," Erik cheered, raising his arms above his head with a grin.

Clint chuckled and nodded. "Okay so. Pancakes it is. What should we put on it?" he replied, smiling as Erik thought about it.

"Chocolate and strawberries. Mama likes it when you make chocolate and strawberry pancakes, Dad," Erik replied, matter-of-factly. The three-year-old may not be their biological son but he was becoming more like both of them every day.

"Right. Let's get cooking," Clint said, smiling as Artyom made happy content noises with his stuffed hawk.

"Baba bababa ba baba ba baba bababa ba," Artyom babbled away to himself, smiling when Clint ran a finger over his nose playfully. Then the archer turned to Erik, preparing himself for the almost impossible mission that he was about to face; making breakfast with a three-year-old….

* * *

The cooking experiment went pretty well, considering that Eva had noticed that Erik showed early signs of ADHD. Clint could picture the list perfectly;  
_'1. Constant climbing (even when instructed not to do so).  
2\. Continuous movement, such as bouncing a knee constantly, the inability to sit without squirming, or restless feet, accompanied by frequent needs to get up and move around. (Unless sitting in Natasha or Clint's lap, he did all of these, preferring to be with his parents than sit alone).  
3\. Running and moving so quickly that it results in serious injury, such as stitches, even after having been told to stop. (He'd hurt himself a few times before moving to the city, often having Eva – as well as Natasha and Clint – exasperated at times).  
4.. An inability to hop on one foot. (Although, sometimes kids couldn't hop on one foot until they were at least four-years-old).  
5\. An inability to play peacefully with others, and the occasional show of a level of aggression that requires removing the child from a situation. (Thankfully, he never showed any signs of aggression towards anyone. But unfortunately, he did show the aggression to himself, refusing to let Natasha or Clint help him when he got hurt, saying he had deserved it. Lately, and fortunately, he'd been more willing to let them help).  
6\. Being louder and noisier than fellow playmates. (Something that was common at such a young age, so no need to truly worry about at the moment).  
7\. Often befriending strangers with little caution. (Erik's time in the Red Room had made this basically impossible for him).  
8. _ _Showing unusually low fear in situations that can lead the child into danger. (Again, not something he showed often because of the Red Room).  
9\. The inability to focus for more than a few minutes without losing interest. (Again, s_ _omething that was common at such a young age, so no need to truly worry about at the moment)_  
10\. Refusal to participate in an activity that requires the child's attention for more than a minute or two. (Depending on who the person was – if it was his parents, Erik would agree wholeheartedly. If it was his aunts or uncles, he was more reluctant. He never refused outright).'  
She had told them that it could simply be Erik growing up without the restrictions of the Red Room's training and experimentation but she wanted to keep an eye on him for further signs. It also could be him recovering from the trauma he had experienced but she didn't want to take any chances. And neither did Clint and Natasha.

Clint had managed to keep Erik and Artyom equally entertained throughout making breakfast, an accomplishment he was very proud he had achieved – he had even managed to feed Artyom his bottle during the ordeal. Balancing the plate on the tray for Erik to carry – on the three-year-old's insistence – Clint held Artyom with one arm and the glass of orange juice watched Erik carefully as they walked down the hall to the master bedroom. Opening the door with his free hand, he noticed Natasha's sleeping form on his side of the bed – but he knew she was awake the moment she heard the door open.

"Mama," Erik called as he carefully walked over to the bed, smiling happily when she blinked her eyes opened to look at him.

"Yes, Мой Малютка?" she answered, smiling lovingly at her oldest son.

"Breakfast, Mama," he replied, placing the tray on the bed as Natasha sat up.

The red-head's eyes widened in delighted surprise. "Why thank you, Мой Малютка. Did you make this yourself?" she asked, pulling the tray onto her lap. Then she gestured to Erik to climb up beside her. She wrapped her right arm around him, pulling him close to her. She pressed a loving kiss to his temple, smiling happily when he curled into her side.

Erik nodded but added cheekily, "Daddy helped. A bit." He giggled happily as Clint protested, walking over to Natasha and Erik.

Clint pouted before he walked over and kissed Natasha softly in greeting. "He is a very patient cook," he informed her proudly. "And he knows what his Mama likes too," he added happily, handing her the glass of orange juice.

Natasha smiled at her husband and leaned up to kiss Artyom's forehead lovingly. "Really?" she asked, turning her head to look at Erik. "Did you tell Daddy what I wanted for breakfast?"

Erik nodded happily. "Yup. And you like Daddy too," he replied with a grin as Clint sat down on the other side of Natasha.

Clint gently placed Artyom on his back between his outstretched legs, the six-month-old too busy giggling and chewing on his stuffed hawk to care that he had been moved from his perch on his father's hip. Clint and Natasha grinned as Artyom babbled away, content with his toy.

Erik leaned into Natasha as she started cutting into her breakfast. She handed him her spare fork, grinning as she started eating the pancakes with her oldest son. At the same time, she fed Clint with her own fork, smirking at him when he playfully pulled her and Erik closer with each bite. Clint had made pancakes enough for the three of them. And Natasha, although she didn't look forward to leave either of her boys for the next mission (and every one after that), knew that the mornings after she got home were worth the trouble…

* * *

Natasha smiled as she watched Erik, in his blue ski-jacket, race through the different playground equipment; he easily manoeuvred his way through the seesaw, merry-go-round, swing set, slide, jungle gym, chin-up bars, spring rider, monkey bars and overhead ladder. No equipment piece posed any difficulty to the three-year-old. She flickered her eyes to Artyom's sleeping form in his stroller, his pacifier falling from his opened mouth. Clint had left to get the two of them coffee at a stand nearby, bringing Lucky with him on the dog's leash. She brushed her thumb over her youngest boy's cheek just as Erik ran over to her.

"Mama. Mama. Mama. I did the jungle gym all by myself," he informed her happily, grinning wholeheartedly at her.

Natasha held out her arms and grinned. "Very good, Мой Малютка," she replied, pulling Erik into a hug and kissing his cheek lovingly. "Well done. I'm very proud of you, Erik," she told him, smiling when he leaned into her. "You'll have to tell Daddy all about it when he gets back with the drinks," she added, letting Erik perch on her lap.

Just as she finished talking, Clint arrived with their coffee. And a bottle of juice for Erik.

"Daddy!" the three-year-old greeted happily as Clint sat down beside Natasha.

"Hey Buddy," Clint replied, handing Erik his juice and kissing his oldest son's forehead before leaning forehead and pecking Natasha's lips lovingly. "Hi, моя паук," he added.

Natasha smiled and leaned her head on Clint's shoulder as he handed her her cup of coffee – a mocha with two creams, three sugars. Erik leaned back against her as he drank his juice bottle. Lucky sat obediently at Clint's feet, watching Artyom sleep peacefully in his stroller.

Clint wrapped his free arm around Natasha's shoulders, placing a kiss to her temple lovingly. They were both wearing heavy coats – he was wearing a grey winter coat while Natasha was wearing a similar one but in black (and the woman's version with a hood). "These are the best moments," he whispered to her; the moments where they could be a normal family despite their jobs, the days when they could take their kids and dog to the park without having to worry about being called to work.

Natasha smiled. She tightened her arm around Erik's waist, leaning further into her husband's touch, her eyes falling to Artyom's sleeping form once more. "Yes. Yes, these are the best moments…"


	2. Home

Clint grinned as Erik and Lucky slept peacefully on the couch. The two were worn out from their day in the park. Natasha was putting Artyom to bed while Clint had been tasked with getting Erik to bed – without waking him. The archer cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out how to lift his son without waking the three-year-old.

Suddenly, two hands found their way around his waist and up to rest on his sternum. "Everything okay?" he heard his wife's husky low voice whisper against his left shoulder blade.

"Yeah," Clint whispered, twisting his head to the side. He gently rested his hands over hers. "I just don't want to wake him up," he added, lifting her left hand to kiss her rings softly.

Natasha smiled and nodded against his back. "I know. But his bed is much more comfortable than the couch," she whispered, slowly pulling away from him so he could turn around to look at her. "And you won't wake him up, Clint. You wouldn't do that to either of the boys," she added with a soft smile.

Clint nodded and leaned down to kiss her softly. "Thank you, Tasha," he whispered softly. Pulling away, he quietly walked over to Erik and gently snuck his arms under Erik's body. He gently lifted the three-year-old up, grinning proudly when Erik leaned into his touch. He turned around slowly to find Natasha still standing in the doorway. She was watching them both with a soft smile. Walking over to her, he smiled as she gently kissed Erik's forehead lovingly.

"Goodnight,  _Мой Малютка,_ " she whispered against her oldest son's skin. She smiled up at Clint and stepped to the side to let him carry Erik to the three-year-old's bedroom. She smiled as she watched her husband walk down the hallway. Turning at the sound of Lucky's whine, she smirked at the dog when he looked at her questioningly. "Come on, Lucky. Into bed," she ordered softly. She watched the dog climb down from the couch, pattering down the hallway to his bed in Erik's room. When they had moved back to the city, Erik had asked them could Lucky sleep in his bedroom. And neither Natasha or Clint could say no to Erik. Since Lucky had moved to Erik's room, their oldest son had been showing better signs of dealing with his past. It was as if Lucky was the slow cure for Erik's PTSD…

* * *

" _Mama, Dad, can Lucky stay in my room?" Erik asked, making both his parents look up from where they were unpacking a few boxes that they had brought from the farmhouse. Artyom lay on his blanket between Natasha and Clint, his eyes watching his family carefully as he chewed on his stuffed Hawk._

_Natasha looked at Clint, raising a questioning eyebrow at her husband. She had read that children having dogs helped with Autism but she hadn't read anything about dogs helping with PTSD. At least not yet. Eva had given her a few books about parenting and adopted children, per the red-head's request. Raising two kids under the age of four meant that she hadn't had the chance to finish all five yet._

_Clint bit his lip before asking Natasha in Arabic, "Have you read much into how dogs help kids with PTSD?"_

_Natasha shook her head slightly. "No. But they do help kids with Autism and different other disorders and problems. PTSD could be part of them too, right?" she replied in the same tongue. When Clint nodded, she turned her head to look at Erik. "Okay_ ,  _Мой Малютка. Lucky can stay with you. But if you and Lucky staying in the same room becomes a problem, he has to move out to living-room. Okay?" she informed him._

_Erik ran over to her and threw his arms around her neck. "Thank you, Mama and Daddy," he answered, smiling as Clint joined the hug…_

* * *

Natasha followed Lucky down to Erik's room just as Clint pulled the three-year-old's Sesame Street bed covers. Lucky walked over to his bed, circling the red and purple cushion before laying down, his head facing the door.

Clint kissed Erik's head before walking over to where Natasha stood in the doorway. She caught his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers as they turned the light low and gently shut the door without waking Erik. Clint pulled her into a hug, pressing his lips to the crown of her forehead lovingly. "Wanna watch a movie or something?" he asked, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent.

Natasha smiled and nodded. "Yes, please," she whispered, pulling away to lead him into the living-room. She had brought home a few DVDs from London including one Clint had wanted to see.

Clint couldn't help the happy grin when Natasha handed him the DVD she had picked out from the collection she had brought home from London. "So you want to see Casino Royale?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow at the red-head.

Natasha smirked. "Daniel Craig looks good in the beach scene," she teased, earning a growl from Clint. She slowly strutted over to her husband, putting an extra sway in her hips. "And it kinda reminded me of our mission in Ibiza when we were only a few months together," she added, smirking at her husband knowingly. The mission before they had admitted that they loved each other.

Clint pulled her close, placing his hands low on her ass as Natasha gently wrapped her arms around his neck. "Which part? The part where I pulled you into the sea? Or the bit when we got back to the hotel had played for hours in between the bed sheets?" he whispered, leaning down to drag his lips teasingly over her neck. "I went down on your for three hours and wouldn't let you come until I was sure you desperately wanted it," he added tauntingly.

Natasha groaned at the memory, wishing she hadn't brought it up now. Orgasm denial was definitely a torture technique Clint was skilled in; and something she did not want to ever share with anyone. Resting her head against his chest, she rolled her eyes playfully when he chuckled. He'd enjoyed Ibiza far too much for her liking…

* * *

_Clint grinned as he pinned Natasha's wet body to their hotel bed. Their mission had been a cake walk; the arms dealer had revealed everything within minutes of finding himself alone in a hotel room with the Black Widow smirking at him as she sat in front of him, twirling a knife between her fingers. And Hawkeye standing with an arrow pointed between the target's legs. He'd cried like a baby._

_Natasha grinned up at her partner. Her fingers flexing while Clint pinned her wrists. "You couldn't even wait for a shower, Clint. What? Is my two piece too revealing for you?" she teased, making Clint growl possessively._

_Clint looked down and took in his lover's attire. She was wearing a deep purple bikini which left little to the imagination, suiting her alias to perfection: an ex-model from Russia, spending her time and cash in one of the biggest party kingdom's in Europe. And she just so happened to spend time with the American born bartender, spending many nights with him in her bed._

" _Mmmm. No. After all, I'm just the poor American born bartender that fell for your Russian beauty," he replied, lying about his feelings about her two piece; he'd given a few dirty, threatening looks to men who let their eyes linger on Natasha's body during the past two weeks._

_Natasha knew he was lying but she leaned up and brushed her lips over his ear. "Then show me what I've been missing… Stud," she whispered huskily in his ear._

_Clint growled before catching Natasha's lips with his own. "You're mine, Natasha," he murmured against her lips. He grinned as she groaned against his mouth._

_She wrapped her legs around his, pulling him closer to her. "Yes," she whispered against his lips. "All yours, Clint," she whispered._

_Clint dragged one hand down to the nape of Natasha's neck, easily undoing the strings of her top. He grinned as he slipped his hand down in between her shoulder blades, undoing the strings there before pulling the revealing piece off of his lover's body. He followed up by breaking their kiss and trailing his lips down her body._

_Natasha moaned as Clint wrapped his lips around her left nipple, dragging his teeth over the erect bud and sucking hard. She wanted to bring her hands down to his hair, to drag her nails over his scalp. "Fuck, Clint," she moaned, bucking her hips up to his._

_Suddenly, Clint pulled away from her, surprising the red-head. "Clint?" she whispered, confused, as he made his way over to his bag that he had brought to the hotel. He took a small brown paper bag out of his bag, making Natasha pause as she wondered what exactly her lover had bought the previous morning._

" _What's in the bag, Clint?" she whispered before gasping as her partner pounced onto the bed – onto her – pining her to the bed with his weight once again._

" _Something that makes sure you know that you're mine," Clint stated smugly as he grabbed her wrists again and pushed them against the pillows beneath her head. He grinned as Natasha raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him._

" _And what's that?" the red-head whispered before moaning as Clint claimed her lips hungrily, making her cease her questioning, too lost in their kiss._

_Clint placed the bag on the nightstand and continued to kiss Natasha as he ran his hands all over her body, keeping her distracted as he continued to kiss her hungrily. "Clint," she moaned as he brushed his hands over her breasts teasingly with feather-light touches._

" _Yes, Natasha?" he whispered teasingly as he teased her breasts._

" _Want you," Natasha mumbled into his mouth as she tugged at the waistband of his shorts with her feet, wanting to get him naked as soon as possible. "Now," she whispered as she finally got the shorts over the curve of his ass, breaking the kiss to concentrate on pushing them down his legs. She threw them onto the floor before crushing her lips against his again, not wanting their make-out session to stop._

" _Want you too, Tasha," Clint whispered into her mouth as she parted her lips to allow his tongue entrance. He tugged her thong down over her hips, making her raise hips to let him tug the troublesome lace over the curve of her ass, releasing her wrists. At the same time, she caught the nape of his neck with her left hand while her right gripped his left bicep, pulling him close._

" _Then we've reached an agreement," she whispered, grinning as she nipped at his tongue playfully. She brought her calves to his hips, using them to pull her archer closer to her._

_Clint grinned mischievously into their kiss. "About what?" he teased as he slowly grabbed her hands and pushed them back down onto the bed, using her bikini top to tie her wrists together to the headboard._

" _What the hell, Clint?" Natasha hissed in confusion, tugging at her restraints as she tried to get free but it was futile attempts to try get out of the archer's knots._

" _I told you," Clint stated teasingly as he got off the bed and slowly stretching, dressed only in his boxers. He grinned at his partner as she licked her lips as she watched his muscles flex as he moved. "I'm going to punish you for teasing me," Clint stated as he walked over to Natasha's bag, making the red-head frown in confusion._

" _And how do you plan on doing that?" Natasha whispered as she watched Clint take out her bra as well as two of her clean panties. She watched as he smirked at her smugly while he walked back over to the bed. Suddenly, he grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs apart, using her panties to tie her to the bed, much to her secret pleasure; she absolutely loved it when Clint got tied her up because she knew he would never hurt her._

" _I think," Clint started, nipping and sucking on her skin as he made his way back up her body. He grinned as she moaned loudly and threw her head back in pleasure as he nipped on her nipples teasingly. "I think. That I might just show you instead," he whispered before moving up to the spot behind her neck and sucking hungrily on her weak spot._

" _Fuck. Clint," Natasha groaned loudly at his actions, not noticing as he spread her arms and tied them to the headboard separately. "What do you mean?" she whispered as he kissed her hungrily, nipping her bottom lip, sucking on it teasingly._

" _Put it like this. You're not allowed move unless I tell you that you can move," Clint stated as he pulled away from her lips, grinning at her smugly as she glared at him for his words. "You're not allowed to come unless I give you permission. Is that clear Miss Romanova?" he asked in Russian, grinning as she stared at him with wide eyes._

" _You got to be kidding me," she whispered in her native tongue, her jaw slack in surprise at her lover's words. She submitted to him, yes, but did he really want her to beg for her release?_

" _I don't think that's an answer, Miss Romanova?" Clint whispered as he moved his way back up to the head of the bed, running his hand along her side as he moved. "Is what I said clear, Miss Romanova?" he asked again as he moved his fingers down to her sex, running them along her wet slit, making Natasha groan at the sensation in reply._

" _Yes," she gasped, biting her bottom lip as she tried to control her body's natural instinct to buck her hips up to his callused touch._

" _Yes, Sir," he stressed as he slipped two of his fingers passed her panties and inside her tight cunt. It made Natasha groan loudly at the feeling of his rough fingers curling slightly inside her._

" _Yes, Sir," Natasha moaned all the while glaring murderously – desperately – up at the boyishly smug look on her partner's face._

" _Good girl," Clint whispered before leaning down and kissing her chastely. "And if you continue to be good, I'll let you get your release," he whispered, grinning as he pulled his fingers out of her and pulled away from her luscious lips, much to Natasha's disappointment._

" _What does being a good girl involve, Sir?" Natasha whispered, watching her lover carefully. She watched as he carefully checked to see if all of her restraints were comfortable before he climbed on top of her, straddling her waist carefully._

" _You don't move or you don't come without my permission, that's all," he whispered before leaning down and kissing her softly as he cupped her cheeks with his hands lovingly. "The minute you feel uncomfortable you tell me, Tasha. I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Baby," he whispered against her lips._

_Natasha nodded and kissed him back lovingly. "Okay," she mumbled against his lips, smiling softly at the caring side of her partner; no matter if he was more injured than her or not, he always put her needs before his. Or if his_ _Haphephobia became a problem._

_Clint slowly broke the kiss and made his way down her jaw, sucking and nipping her skin. He left several hickeys along her pulse point as he moved his lips down her body. He chuckled lightly as she moaned loudly when he took her right nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting on the erect bud, making his lover cry out in pleasure. While she was distracted, he brought his right hand to massage her left breast firmly._

" _You like this, don't you?" Clint whispered teasingly against her skin as he switched his lips to her other breast, switching his hands so he could drag his right hand down to her cunt, brushing his thumb over her clit tauntingly, making Natasha moaned in approval. "You like being tied up by me so I can pleasure every single inch of your body," he whispered before blowing seductively on her now wet skin. His actions made Natasha bite her bottom lip hard, hard enough to draw blood, to stop herself from squirming at the sensation._

" _Yes, Sir," Natasha moaned loudly, not noticing the smug look on the archer's face as he kissed and licked his way down to her stomach. He paused to dip his tongue inside her belly button, making Natasha squirm at the action._

_Clint stopped his actions and slapped the inside of Natasha's left thigh, just this side of being pleasurably painful to the red-head. "This is your only warning Natasha: Do. Not. Move. Again," Clint warned as he put his lips back on her stomach, continuing his slow path down her body._

" _Yes, Sir," Natasha whispered as Clint made his way pass where she needed him most. Instead he kissed his way down to each ankle before slowly making his way up to the apex of her thighs._

" _What do you want me to do, Miss Romanova?" Clint asked in Russian as he ran his nose along her slit causing Natasha to groan loudly in ecstasy at his actions._

" _I want you," Natasha started but was cut off by her own moan as Clint brought his left hand to her entrance, running it along the same path as his nose. "I need you to touch me, Sir," Natasha whispered in Russian, panting heavily as she tried to control her lust-filled senses._

" _I am touching you, Natasha," Clint replied, grinning as she sighed in frustration at his teasing behaviour._

" _Please Cl... Sir. I need you to touch me. Not tease me," Natasha begged, groaning in frustration as Clint only chuckled at her request. Knowing he would only continue to tease her, she decided to ask for exactly what she needed. "Master, I need you to use that talented tongue of yours on my cunt. Please, eat me out," Natasha begged, moaning loudly as her lover rolled her clit between his finger and thumb._

" _Mmmm," Clint mumbled as he nuzzled her with his nose. "Okay," he eventually whispered when he heard his lover cry out his name in frustrated pleasure. He brought his hands to her hips as he slowly ran his tongue along her slit before stopping at her clit._

" _God. Yes," Natasha moaned loudly as Clint wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking hungrily on the bundle of nerves. Her pitch got higher and higher as Clint slowly slid two of his fingers inside her, curling and moving them in time with lapping his tongue on her clit._

_Suddenly, Natasha bucked her hips as Clint added another digit inside her, hitting her G-spot in the process._

_Clint pulled out of her and got off the bed. "I told you not to move, Natasha. You do realise that I have to punish you now," Clint stated as he walked up to the nightstand where the paper bag was placed. And what he took out of the bag surprised Natasha. She didn't think he would've brought it with him._

" _Clint... You seriously did not bring a vibrator with you?!" the red-head whispered hoarsely, watching her partner carefully as he slowly climbed back onto the bed and on top of her._

" _Mmhmm," Clint mumbled as he straddled her thighs and turned on the vibrator, dragging it over her breasts teasingly. His actions made Natasha moan loudly in reply. "How many times do you have to be told? Do. Not. Tease. Me," the archer stated as he placed the instrument on his lover's clit, making the red-head squirm and cry out at the sensitivity that the vibrator created on her engorged flesh._

" _Oh God. Clinton," Natasha moaned. She threw her head back as Clint moved so his face was level with her cunt. Clint raised his hand to her entrance and slowly pushed three of his fingers back inside her while he turned the vibrator to maximum._

" _I told you not to move and not to come until I told you. So not I'm going to punish you for being such a naughty girl," he whispered as he added another finger inside her and added his tongue to her clit. He grinned as she moaned in frustration and ecstasy, her body unable to choose the better of the two yet._

" _Okay, Master," Natasha mumbled, making Clint raise his eyes to look at her. "Punish me in whatever way you deem necessary," she whispered, making Clint grin smugly as she submitted to him completely._

" _Don't worry, Miss Romanova," Clint whispered in between lapping at her clit. "That's exactly what I plan on doing."_

* * *

" _Please. Clint. Master. I'm sorry," Natasha moaned, unable to take her lover's teasing any longer. "I'm sorry I disobeyed your orders. I'm so sorry. I won't do it again. I need to come for you," the red-head pleaded as Clint curled his fingers inside her for the umpteenth time with the last few hours. She had lost count of the time._

" _Okay then, Natasha," Clint whispered against her lower lips, making Natasha squirm at his warm breath and the vibrations of the instrument he was pushing against her entrance. "Come for me," he ordered huskily against her cunt. It was all that was needed to send the red-head into oblivion of pleasure._

" _Clint!" Natasha screamed in ecstasy loudly. She vaguely wondered if anyone within a ten mile radius could hear her screams as she was finally allowed to have her climax._

_The red-head slowly came down from her high, not sure if she had blacked out from her orgasm. She noticed her partner, hovering above her, wearing his boyishly smug smirk, the one he only wore when he knew he had done something to make Natasha happy._

" _Hi, Sexy," the archer greeted before he leant down and kissed her slowly but hungrily._

_Natasha shifted her legs slightly and realised that her ankles were now free. She raised an eyebrow at Clint when he pulled away from their kiss; how had she not realised that her partner had released her legs?_

_Clint chuckled and kissed her again before mumbling into her mouth, "You passed out in pleasure from your release." He grinned smugly as she mumbled an '_ Oh?' _in response, too busy with the fact that their tongues battled for dominance. "Mmhmm. I felt that it wouldn't be comfortable for you if I fucked you into the mattress with your legs still tied up," he added smugly, making Natasha smirk in reply._

" _You think you can fuck me into the mattress? Master, do you have that much stamina?" Natasha whispered tauntingly, knowing exactly how effective her teasing him could be when they were alone in the bedroom._

_Clint smirked at her as he positioned himself at her entrance. "Oh, I don't think that, Miss Romanova," Clint started as he pushed himself inside her, making them both groan in pleasure as he bottomed out inside her. "I know that I can fuck you into this bed... and any bed, for that matter. And fuck your brains out at the same time," Clint finished smugly, placing his left hand beside her head while he used his right to place her left leg over his shoulder, sending him deeper inside her._

" _Really?" Natasha whispered seductively as she arched her back for him. "I'll hold you up to that, Barton," she teased, earning a smirk from her lover._

" _You won't need to, Romanoff," he shot back as he pulled back slowly until only the tip of his cock was inside her before slamming his hips back inside her, making Natasha cry out in pleasure at his actions, her back arching high off the bed._

_Clint quickly built a steady, strong, deep rhythm, pounding into Natasha. His actions made the red-head moan her pleasured approval at his actions. Natasha moved her right leg so she could wrap it around her partner's waist._

" _Fuck. Clint. Right there," Natasha moaned as she threw her head back, feeling the familiar pooling in the bottom of her stomach again._

" _Right there?" he whispered as he brought his right hand between them. He brushed his thumb over her clit, making the red-head gasped her approval at his movements._

" _Yes," Natasha gasped as Clint brought her right leg to his free shoulder. "Please. Clint. I want. I need to come with you," she moaned as she felt him lose his rhythm slightly at her request._

" _Oh? How much do you need to come with me?" Clint whispered as he continued to drive his lover further into the mattress. "How badly do you need to climax with me inside you?"_

_Natasha gasped loudly and arched her body to his as he pounded inside her. "Please. Clint. Please. Come. With. Me," Natasha begged._

_Clint could only nod before kissing her hungrily as he finally sent her over the edge. Her quivering walls pulling him into his own orgasm._

_They cried out in mutual pleasure, Clint thrusting twice more inside her before stilling his moments. "Fuck," Natasha whispered as Clint collapsed on top of her, both of them panting heavily as they came down from their highs. "You were right, Clint. You are very capable of fucking my brains out," she whispered as she turned her head to kiss his temple lovingly._

" _Glad you agree," Clint mumbled against her shoulder before kissing his way back up her shoulder. When he reached her lips, he kissed her softly. "Did you enjoy it?" he whispered against her lips, grinning as she hummed contently in reply. "Good," he started, grinning as her breath hitch as she realised what he was going to do. "Because I'm not done punishing you yet," he whispered as he pulled back out so the tip of his still-hard length was still inside her. "And we have fourteen more hours to kill."_

" _Bring it on, Barton," Natasha shot back before gasping in pleasure as the archer slammed back inside her…_

* * *

"Let's go watch the movie, Clint," Natasha mumbled against his chest. She squealed when Clint suddenly lifted her bridal style and carried her over to the couch. "Clint!" she protested as he settled down on the couch, with her in his lap, using his foot to pull the coffee table closer where two wine glasses, a bottle of Chardonnay and popcorn waited.

"Shush," Clint replied, smiling cheekily at his wife when she raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He simply grabbed the bottle of Chardonnay and popped the cork. "Milady, would you like a glass of our finest Chardonnay?" he asked, putting on a fake French accent.

Natasha shook her head playfully at her husband and took the two glasses off the table. "Why yes, Monsieur Barton," she replied, smirking at Clint.

Clint grinned and poured them their glasses of wine. Natasha handed him his glass after he set the bottle back down before she stood up and put the DVD in the player. She returned to the couch, raising an eyebrow when Clint insisted on her sitting in his lap. "I want to hold you. You were gone for too long," he explained with a simple shrug.

Natasha smiled softly at him and climbed into his lap, nestling her face into his chest. "That's all you had to say, Clint," she informed him, smiling as he wrapped his free arm around her waist, his hand resting on her stomach.

Clint pressed his lips to her temple, inhaling her scent as they watched the opening credits start for Casino Royale…

* * *

Natasha smiled at Clint as he carried her into the bedroom. They had both enjoyed the movie and Clint insisted on carrying her to bed to thank her for bringing the DVD home from London. They'd turned off the DVD player before Clint picked Natasha up and carried her down the hallway.

As he set her down on their bed, Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. She caught his lips with hers, smiling as he groaned playfully against her lips. He planted his elbows either side of her body, kissing her back hungrily.

Natasha brought one hand to Clint's scalp, her nails digging in as he buried his hand in her long red locks, keeping her mouth latched to his. She brought her free hand down to the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it upwards, wordlessly telling him that she wanted him naked. As soon as was possible.

Clint reluctantly pulled away from Natasha's perfect lips to strip himself of his T-shirt. He grinned as his wife sat up and pulled her pullover and camisole over her own head – she hated the cold – and stripped her bra as well. She pulled him back down on top of her, grinning as he moved to straddle her on their bed.

Clint grabbed the waistband of Natasha's skinny jeans, easily pulling them down as he caught her lips hungrily. She raised her hips to help him rid her of her jeans, kicking them off when they reached her feet. He rid himself of his own quickly, along with his boxers, and ripping Natasha's thong off of her.

Natasha couldn't help but groan at Clint's actions. She was so making him but her new La Perla every time he tore her underwear. Before she could say anything, Clint moved to the edge of the bed, quickly pulling her close and pushing her thighs over his shoulders. He buried his face in between her legs, running his tongue along her slit. He wrapped his right arm over her left thigh while using his left hand to push two fingers inside her, teasing her.

Natasha moaned her husband's name as he curled his fingers inside her, moving them in a teasing pace. She used one hand to grip at their bed sheets while her other hand dragged through his locks. She bit her bottom lip to prevent herself from crying out too loudly, afraid of waking her sons despite knowing their room was soundproofed.

Clint sucked hard on her clit as he pushed a third finger inside her. He grinned as he moved his fingers quicker inside her, planning on making her come more times than she had the previous night. He wanted her begging him to stop even though all she wanted was for him to keep going. He'd done it to her so many times before and tonight would be no different. Natasha wouldn't be able to walk or think straight when he was finished tonight.

Natasha pulled a pillow over her face and screamed as she came hard, Clint's ministrations sending her over the edge quickly. He continued to lap at her as she came down, making her hips buck because of her oversensitive sex. She could already tell that he wanted to push her into another orgasm before they began the main act. And she couldn't help but want it too.

Clint curled his fingers against Natasha's G-spot, grinning when she moaned loudly. Even with the pillow over her mouth, he could still hear her muffled screams of delight. He slowly removed his fingers from her, mush to her disappointment, before delving his tongue deep inside her, making her squeal in pleasured delight. She tightened her thighs around his head, her muscles quivering with pleasure as he made love to her with his mouth. They both knew she wasn't going to last long now. Clint pinched her clit between his thumb and index finger, tugging gently, moaning as he felt her walls clench around his tongue; she was close now.

Natasha's nails ripped through the fabric of the pillowcase as Clint fucked her with his tongue, the addition of the pinch to her clit and his moans sending her into her second orgasm. She screamed his name and pulled hard on the pillowcase, her thighs squeezing hard around Clint's head.

He lapped up her juices as she came down, slowly guiding her down. He was very proud of himself as she lay limply on their bed, a sign that her mind had gone blank for a moment or two. He gently let her legs down from his shoulders, pressing soft kisses along the insides of her thighs and along her lower stomach.

When Natasha regained coherent thought, she released the pillow and pulled Clint up by the shoulders. She kissed him hungrily, her hands cupping his jaw as she kissed him. She moaned at the taste of herself on his lips, making him grin against her lips.

Suddenly, Clint found himself flat on his back with Natasha straddling him. "Relax," she whispered, leaning down and kissing him softly. She rested one hand gently over his heart while the other rested beside his head.

Slowly, she made her way down his body, kissing every scar, crease and dimple, until she reached his length. She smirked up at him as she teasingly ran her tongue along his cock, making Clint call out her name in pleasure at the sensation. She cupped and massaged his balls firmly with her right hand while taking all of his cock into her mouth. She relaxed the back of her throat to allow him to slide deeper.

Natasha smirked as she kept her green eyes locked on Clint's darkened ones as she worked his cock in her mouth. She knew that keeping eye contact with him only turned him on even more.

Clint had to clench his hands in the bed sheets and bite his bottom lip - almost drawing blood - as he tried to stop himself from bucking into her mouth and hurting her. He breathed heavily as he watched her worked her lips over his hard cock. If she didn't stop now, she'd have to wait until he could get back up before they continued to the main act.

Natasha knew Clint was close. And as much as she wanted to return the favour he had so willingly bestowed on her, she knew they would both prefer the main event much more. She smirked at her husband as she slowly pulled her mouth off his hard length, using her left hand to continue to pump him as she slowly sat up. "Sir, is there something you would like me to do?" she asked, teasingly leaning down and blowing on the head of his cock.

Clint growled and suddenly caught Natasha, pulling her close to him as he sat up. He caught her lips hungrily, burying his right hand in her long red hair. She moaned into the kiss, wrapping one arm around his neck while her other hand rested against his cheek. He wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Tasha," he growled possessively into her mouth. She'd teased him enough.

"Clint," she replied, breaking the kiss and leaning her forehead against his. She nipped playfully on his bottom lip as they both caught their breath. She smiled as he nudged her nose with his. Reaching between them, she gripped him firmly and ran the head of his cock along her entrance, never letting him slip inside her.

"Tasha," he growled warningly, gripping her hips tighter. His eyes flickered over her face, trying to figure out why she was teasing him so much. Had he annoyed her somehow?

Natasha caught his lips softly as she slowly sunk down on him. They moaned in pleasure as her walls slowly adjusted to accommodate his cock. She squeezed him inside her, making him groan in pleasure, his eyes rolling back. He wrapped both arms around her waist, breaking the kiss as she brought both hands to his hair her nails dragging over the sensitive spots behind his ear.

He shuffled back so he was resting against the headboard. He planted his feet against the mattress, sending himself deeper inside her. Natasha groaned in pleasure at his movement, leaning her forehead against the crook of his neck. She kissed her way up his neck until she reached his lips. She slowly rocked her hips against his, smiling against his lips as they both moaned.

Clint opened his mouth and slid his tongue over her lips. He nipped playfully on his bottom lip before kissing her deeply. "Mine," he mumbled into her mouth. He moved his right hand back up to gently grasp the nape of her neck. His left stayed on her waist as she rocked against him. He moved his hips in time with hers, both moaning against each other's mouths.

"Yours," she agreed, dragging one hand up the back of his head to clutch at his hair as they moved. Her other hand moved to his shoulders as he thrust up into her hard. "Clint. Fuck. Yes. Please. Yes," she moaned against his lips.

Clint broke the kiss and noticed something behind Natasha. "Tasha. Stop for a second. I want to try something new," he whispered, surprising his wife.

Natasha frowned in confusion but did as Clint asked, stopping her movements. She let him lift her off of him and move so her back was facing him. "Clint, what the fuck are you pl-…" she started as she settled back into his lap. "Oh," she whispered when she realised what he was planning. "Oh," she repeated.

"I want you to watch us too," he whispered in her ear, moving her hair over one shoulder. He kissed his way up her bare neck, grinning when he heard her breath hitch as he moved her legs to the outside of his. "You okay with that?" he asked, nipping on her earlobe playfully.

Natasha nodded wordlessly, watching his reflection in the full-length mirror across from their bed. One of them had left the door open to their walk-in wardrobe, meaning the mirror was directly in front of their bed. The red-head's breathing hitched in her throat as Clint reached underneath her, gripping himself firmly and positioning himself at her entrance. She sunk down on him, moaning as she watched his length spread her folds slowly as she took him inside her. "Fuck. Clint," she moaned, gripping his right arm as he wrapped it around her waist. He brought his left hand up to her breast, teasing her by pinching her nipple and tugging gently.

Clint grinned, keeping his eyes locked on their reflection. "You look so good like this, Tasha. Spread open for me. I wanna see you come like this. Do you think you can come for me like this?" he whispered huskily into her ear just as he slid his right hand down to where their bodies met. His fingers easily found her clit, rubbing quick circles over the bundle of nerves. "Hold yourself open for me, Tasha. Grab your knees and hold yourself for me," he ordered, nipping on the spot just below her ear.

Natasha moaned and did as she was told, leaning back against Clint for support as she held herself open for him. "Fuck. Yes. Yes. Yes. Clint," she moaned as he thrust up into her. He planted his feet firmly on the mattress once more, setting a firm pace as he pinched her nipple and played her clit. His actions made her beg and moan for release. She was unable to tear her eyes away from their reflection, watching Clint thrust up into her.

Clint spread his fingers through Natasha's folds, smirking when her breathing hitched at the sight. "I want you to come for me, Natasha," he whispered huskily. "I want to watch you come for me, Tasha."

Natasha let out a muffled scream as she came hard around her husband, her walls clenching his cock hard. Her body shuddered around his length as she arched her back high off his chest. Clint continued to thrust up into her. She fell back against him, panting hard as he continued to move inside her. His fingers still played with her clit, his other hand still pinching and tugging on her nipples.

Clint groaned when Natasha brought one of her hands down to play with her clit, their fingers working together. He brought his other hand down to spread her folds open, sucking and biting on the crook of her neck. "So good, Tasha. Fuck. You're too perfect. Too good for me," he whispered against her skin.

Natasha heard what he whispered against her skin. She couldn't help but twisted her head, catching his lips with hers. "Don't. I'm yours, Clint," she whispered into his mouth between gasps and moans. "I'm yours," she repeated, interlacing their fingers as they played with her clit.

Clint groaned and thrust harder. His breathing hitched as Natasha brought her free hand up to play with her nipples. "Mine," he agreed huskily. "Come for me again, Tasha. Please come for me again," he whispered against her lips.

Natasha nodded. She was close enough as it was; her cunt was very sensitive because of how hard he was thrusting inside her and how their fingers played her with her clit, her other hand playing with her sensitive nipples. But she wanted Clint to come with her this time. "Come with me, Clint," she begged, moving her hips in time with his. "Please. Fill me up. Please. Fill me up," she begged, breaking their kiss so she could toss her head back against his shoulder.

Clint groaned her name as he finally let go, his thrusts beyond erratic now. He repeated her name as he spilled inside her, filling her up just like she wanted him to do.

Natasha screamed as she came hard around him, her walls clenching around his cock as he spilled inside her. Her body shuddered as she came for the fourth and final time that night. She collapsed back against Clint's chest, both of them panting as they recovered from their mutual orgasms…

* * *

"What. The. Fuck. Brought. That. On?" Natasha panted as she lay on top of Clint, both of their breathing laboured from their actions.

"No. Clue," he replied, slowly shifting Natasha off of him so he could turn on his side and kiss her gently. "But. It was fun, wasn't it?" he whispered, gently running his fingers over her face lovingly.

Natasha's eyes were still closed but she grinned and nodded. "Yes. Yes, it was fun," she whispered, blindly kissing him again. "Thank you, Мой ястреб," she whispered against his lips.

"You're welcome, Моя паук," he replied, pulling her close as she rested her legs between his; even during and after sex her feet were fucking freezing! "I love you, Tasha," he whispered as she broke the kiss and snuck her head beneath his chin.

Natasha smiled against his chest, her body slowly succumbing to sleep. "I love you too, Clint," she whispered drowsily, bringing her hands to rest against his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist as she slowly fell asleep in his arms.

He followed after her, his eyes slowly sliding closed, knowing his family was safe and sound. And in their home…

* * *

Natasha smiled as Artyom giggled and ate the pureed banana she had done for him. She leaned forward and kissed his nose playfully, chuckling when he babbled happily and looked for more food. "Okay, мой маленькой птицей, one more," she whispered to him, smiling whe he laughed and opened his mouth when she help up the spoon.

Erik and Lucky ran into the room. Clint followed them, an amused eyebrow raised. Natasha finished feeding Artyom his banana before signalling to her husband to watch their youngest son. "I'll get Erik," she told him Arabic, winking conspiringly. She stood up and looked at Erik as he giggled at her. She slowly made a move towards him as he backed away. "Erik," she started, watching her son smirk at her.

"No, no, Mama," Erik replied, raising a hand to shake his index finger at her. "No, no, Mama," he repeated.

Natasha shook her head and moved quickly as Erik darted to the side around the couch, trying to evade his mother.

Clint smiled as he watched Natasha chase after Erik, the red head easily catching their three-year-old son and tickling him.

"Mama!" Erik squealed as Natasha tickled him, trying to squirm his way out of his mother's arms. Natasha only smirked at her husband as she continued to tickle the three-year-old.

"Now, are you going to stop?" Natasha whispered as she wrapped her arms around Erik's waist.

"Stop what?" Erik replied in between giggles as Natasha walked them over to where Clint was lying on the couch with Artyom lying on his chest.

"Running around in your jocks after you've been told to get dressed," Natasha replied as she pressed her lips to Erik's forehead, smiling when the little boy giggled happily at her in reply.

Erik nodded but continued to giggle into his mother's neck as Natasha sat down on the couch at Clint's head. The archer moved his head so it was lying on his wife's left thigh. "Okay, Mama," the little boy whispered as he kissed Natasha's cheek lovingly.

"Thank you, Мой Малютка," Natasha whispered as she moved her left hand so it was resting on Artyom's back, smiling when Clint brought his left hand to hers, interlacing their fingers tenderly. The red-head smiled down at her husband before leaning down and pressing her lips to hers softly. "I love you, Clinton," the red-head whispered in Russian, smiling softly as she slowly pulled away from him.

"I love you too, Natasha," Clint replied, smiling up at his wife lovingly as Erik snuggled into Natasha's side, looking at the two of them thoughtfully. "What's wrong, Erik?" Clint asked, making his oldest son smile shyly at him.

"Can we watch ' _Alvin and The Chipmunks_ ' please?" Erik asked, making Clint and Natasha smile lovingly at him in reply.

"Of course, Мой Малютка," Natasha whispered as she pressed a soft kiss to the crown of his head. She smiled as Lucky hopped up onto the couch, curling up against Erik. Artyom crawled into her lap as Clint stood up to put on the movie Erik had requested, both parents grinning as their three-year-old cheered happily. This was their home…


	3. Complications Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M ALIVE!!!!! I hope you all enjoy :)

"I know, I know," Clint said into the phone as he made his way through the busy airport. "Tasha, I promise to video-call you tonight and talk with the boys. I gave Phil shit the minute he sent me out of the office."

"Clint, you know how Erik gets when one of us suddenly goes on a mission without saying goodbye to him," Natasha replied over the phone at the same time as she fed Artyom some purée. "I thought Nick and Phil had agreed that we would always have time to say goodbye to the boys before a mission?" She phrased it like a question.

"It's an emergency mission from the Council,' Clint explained, dodging a group of co-eds as they giggled and squealed; they were probably skitting off college to go to Europe for a week. "I'm only going to be in Brussels for three days, Tasha. And then I'm home. I promise."

He could hear Natasha sigh over the phone. "What time do you think you'll arrive in Brussels?" she asked as Artyom squealed in delight as she fed him another spoon of purée.

"Plane leaves at 12.00. Connecting flight in Dublin," Clint replied, glancing at his watch. "It's a ten hour flight. So I should be arriving in Brussels at 22.00. And be at my hotel by 22.45."

Natasha made a reluctant sound of agreement. "I'm going to put you on the phone with Erik. He's paying with those Star Wars action figures you bought him during the weekend."

"At least he's getting to play with them," Clint commented as he heard Natasha call for Erik. "Are you okay?" he asked; she hadn't slept much last night and now he was being sent on a mission.

"I'm fine. Here's Erik," she replied, handing her oldest son the house phone.

"Daddy, what time are you going to be home at?" Erik greeted; his enthusiasm was obvious in his tone.

"Hey, Buddy," Clint greeted. "'I've got to go to Europe for three days because of work," he started, not knowing how badly Erik was going to take it.

On the other side of the phone, Erik frowned. "Daddy…" Erik whispered, and Clint could hear the tears in his son's voice.

"I know, Erik. I know. I don't want to go but I have to for work. But it's only going to be two sleeps and I'll be home, okay?" Clint asked, handing his ticket to the woman behind the desk, ignoring the way she tried to flirt with him. "I promise I'll be home on Thursday. So you have to help your Mama while I'm working."

"How can I help Mama?" Erik asked and Clint could picture the confused frown on his face.

"You can help Mama with Artyom and Lucky, Buddy," Clint said, handing the hostess his alias' passport. "You can help her by doing what you are told when Mama asks you to do something. And when I get home, we will go out for ice-cream if you're able to do that. Okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," Erik responded, stealing himself slightly. "I be good big brother. And be good for Mama. I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Erik. I know you're going to be very good for your Mama," Clint answered. "I heard that you've been playing with the Star Wars toys I got you," he added, taking his ticket and passport from the hostess, not sparring her a second glance as he listened to his son talk about his new toys.

"Yeah. I have fun with them. Will you play with them with me when you get home, Daddy?"

"Of course, Buddy. Now I've got to go to get on the plane. Can you put me on the phone to Mama?"

"Yes, Daddy. See you when you get home. I miss you already."

"I miss you too, Erik. Be good for Mama," Clint answered before Erik handed the phone back to Natasha. "He took that better than last time," he stated quietly.

"He's more used to us having to leave," Natasha replied but it sounded more like a question than anything else. "Are you still going to video-call tonight?"

"Yes, of course I will. Tasha…" he trailed off with his original question. "Are you worried?" he decided to ask instead of asking about whatever nightmare she was hiding from him.

Natasha took a few moments to answer. "Yes. Yes, I'm worried, Clint. You're my husband and the father of my children. I'm allowed to be worried."

Clint's eyes slid closed. "I miss you too, Tasha. But I'm coming home as soon as the job is done. I promise," he whispered into the phone. "I love you, Tasha."

"I love you too, Clint," Natasha answered. "Be safe."

"Always. Give our boys big hugs and kisses from me." He reluctantly ended the call and boarded his plane. He had a gut feeling he was not going to like whatever was going to happen over the next three days…

* * *

Clint made it to his hotel room as quickly as possible. He ignored as many people as he could, practically sighing in relief when he was finally in the privacy of his room. He quickly moved through the room, sweeping it clean for any cameras and microphones, finding none.

Once satisfied with the room was clear, he made his way over to the bed and took his laptop out of his bag. He sat down on the bed and loaded his laptop, tugging off his shirt and belt until he was sitting in his undershirt and jeans. He opened up his video-chat, smiling when he noticed Natasha was online. He pulled up the chat, waiting for Natasha to answer.

Natasha's face came onto the screen. Immediately, Clint noticed how she had Erik resting against her shoulder. Their son had his small hands wrapped around his mother's neck, clinging to her. Clint smiled slightly at the sight in front of him; Erik was dressed in his Star Wars pyjamas and Natasha was in one of Clint's shirts.

"He would not go to bed until you rang," she told him softly in greeting, holding Erik close as she sat up in the bed. "Artyom is asleep. And I almost took Phil's head off," she added, pressing a kiss to Erik's head and nodding towards the mobile bassinet beside her side of the bed. "Erik has been dosing on and off for the past hour. And Lucky has made his bed on the bottom of our bed."

"Sorry," he whispered. "They lost my luggage," he explained, leaning back in the bed and placing his laptop on the bed beside him. "How was your day, моя любовь?"

Natasha smiled softly at her husband. "Better than expected. Erik has painted you a few pictures. Artyom has taken to putting everything in his mouth. So we need to make sure he doesn't go near any of Erik's Lego," she informed him, gently moving Erik so he was resting on Clint's side of the bed. "Although, Erik hasn't said anything about you being gone," she added, watching her husband carefully.

Clint bit his lip and nodded. "I didn't want to leave without seeing you and the boys in person, Tasha," he told her, frowning in concern when she shook her head.

"Just don't die out there, alright? I don't want our boys growing up without you, Clint," she replied, gently resting her hand on Erik's back. "As much as I want Erik to sleep, I should wake him up and let him talk to you. He'd never forgive either of us if you had rung without talking to him."

Clint chuckled slightly and nodded. "Yeah, I don't think you deserve to put up with a pouting three-year-old for the next three days," he agreed, watching her gently shake Erik's shoulder to wake their oldest boy up. Erik mumbled sleepily and turned into his mother as she leaned down to whisper softly in his ear.

"Come on, мой маленький, she whispered softly, pressing her lips to his cheek softly. "Daddy's on the video-chat. You wanted to talk with him, didn't you?"

Erik sleepily sat up and looked around the room before realising that the laptop was turned on. "Daddy!" he exclaimed, a grin breaking out over his face.

"Hey, Buddy," Clint replied, smiling brightly at his three-year-old son. "Are you being good for your Mama?" he asked, smirking when Erik climbed into Natasha's lap to get a better look at the laptop.

"Yes, Daddy," Erik replied, nodding quickly at his father. "I very good boy. I help Mama change Artyom too," he informed his father proudly.

Clint grinned, glancing up at Natasha who were an amused smirk as she nodded; that had been one experience she wasn't sure she wanted to repeat. "I'm very proud of you, Erik," he told his son, smiling happily at him. "I heard you painted me pictures too," he added, watching Erik's face light up in recognition at Clint's words.

"Yes, I did, Daddy. I did a picture of you, Mama, Artyom, Lucky and me," Erik told him. "And then I did one of what my toys did. And then one of me helping Mama."

Clint smirked. "Good boy. I'm very proud of you, Erik. I can't wait until you show them to me on Thursday," he told his son, smiling when Erik grinned happily. Just before the three-year-old yawned widely and his eyes slipped closed slightly. "Somebody's tired," the archer commented, looking up at his wife. "Time to go to bed, Buddy."

Erik frowned and shook his head in sleepy protest even as his eyes fought to stay open. "No, Daddy. Wanna stay up," he protested even as Natasha wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Bedtime, Erik. It's almost half eleven. Beddy-byes to Daddy," the red-head informed her son as she pressed a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

Erik nodded sleepy at his mother's words. "Night, night, Daddy. I wuv you," the little boy mumbled sleepily, reaching out to touch his hand against the screen.

Clint smiled and reached to touch where Erik's hand was on the screen. "I love you too, Erik. Night. You get to keep Mama company tonight," he said to the three-year-old but he was already asleep. "I love you too, Natasha," he told his wife, smiling at her softly.

Natasha couldn't help but smirk at her husband. "I know," she replied, gently moving Erik under the comforter on Clint's side of the bed. "I thought I was going to have to fight him to go back to sleep. Guess he was too tired."

Clint nodded in agreement. "You have Erik's appointment tomorrow with Eva, right?" he asked, frowning in thought.

"Yeah. She just wants to make sure that he's the right weight and his blood levels are normal. Nothing out of the ordinary," Natasha replied, moving the laptop into her lap. "It's around 04:30 in Brussels, Clint. You need to sleep for your mission."

Clint shook his head. "I'm fine at the moment, Tasha. I just want to make sure you and the boys are okay," he replied, watching her carefully.

Natasha smiled softly. "We're fine, Clint. Just come home. Or I will find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you myself."

Clint grinned; now Natasha sounded like herself. "Don't worry, Tasha. You have the single right to kill me…"

* * *

 _Hawkeye_  spotted his mark walking through the streets of Brussels. He had brought his M24A2 sniper rifle instead of his bow, thankful that SHIELD had transported everything for him. He watched his mark make his way down an alleyway, away from the citizens. Once he was closest to where the archer wanted him, Hawkeye lined his shot with the target's skull – he believed in making an assassination as clean and painless as possible. Unless they deserved otherwise.

 _Hawkeye_  waited until the target was facing away from him before taking the shot. A quick flash, a sharp bang and the target was lying in a pool of his own blood. Hawkeye moved quickly, taking apart his rifle and putting it neatly into the backpack he had customised to store his rifle and/or bow with his quiver. He made his way out of the building, walking away from the scene as a woman screamed after finding the body.

Clint pulled his hood over his head as it started raining heavily. He made his way through the streets towards a café across from his hotel to meet up with Coulson for debrief….

* * *

Clint sighed as he quickly made his way up the stairs to his hotel room, planning to back up so he could make the next plane home. All he wanted now was to go home and hold his boys close, kiss Natasha and spend the next three days alone with his family.

Suddenly, he heard a sound of feet following him up the stairs towards his room. It was possible that it was one of the other hotel clients going to their own room but Clint didn't want to take a chance.

And when the voice behind him spoke, Clint was never more thankful that he was slightly paranoid in that moment in time.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the infamous Hawkeye, ready to be taught a new lesson from his mentor."

Clint could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck; he had thought he would never hear that voice again. But, obviously, he was mistaken as he turned around and was greeted with the face of someone he thought was long dead…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for taking so long to update (Anything). I hope this was worth the wait to everyone. (College is a bitch at the moment but I have a week off so I hope to update at least another story as well this week :)
> 
> PS: Please, please, don’t kill me for the cliff-hanger.
> 
> Whoever is able to point out the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. quote, you shall get a prize :)  
> To those who I am currently working on prizes for, please bear with me. I am slowly but surely getting close to finishing them off. College, unfortunately, has been taking the most of my time at the moment. But I will eventually get there, pinkie promise :)


	4. Complications Part 2

_"Well, well, well. If it isn't the infamous Hawkeye, ready to be taught a new lesson from his mentor."_

_Clint could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck; he had thought he would never hear that voice again. But, obviously, he was mistaken as he turned around and was greeted with the face of someone he thought was long dead…_

* * *

"Trick Shot," Clint greeted, keeping his voice neutral as he watched one of his former mentors carefully. "You're a long way from The Fridge," he commented nonchalantly.

"I have a friend who let me out," Buck Chisholm replied with a grin that was all too smug. "I thought I'd paid my old student a visit."

"What do you want, Chisholm?" Clint asked; he knew better to even contemplate that this was a social call.

"I need your help," Buck answered honesty. "I need you and Barney."

"Why?" Clint was curious about why Chisholm would need his help. The last time Clint had seen him, his old mentor had tried to put an arrow through his eye.

"An old colleague of mine wanted to take revenge on me for something I wasn't responsible for. He took something very precious to me," the older man informed the agent. "There are only two people I know, personally, who are capable of helping me."

"I'm not helping you steal something, Buck," Clint replied, his eyes narrowing at his former mentor. "I'm not a criminal anymore." He turned to leave.

"It's not a thing that was stolen, Barton. They took my granddaughter."

That made Clint stop and turn back to his old mentor. "Was it Swordsman?" he finally asked, watching Chisholm carefully.

Chisholm nodded. "Yes. Revenge for letting you and Barney getting away," he replied honestly. "Will you help me?"

Clint thought about how he'd feel if someone tried to kidnap Erik and Artyom for revenge. "I can't speak for Barney," he started. "But I will help you."

* * *

Clint arrived home at half twelve, silently making his way inside. He shut the door behind him and made his way into the boys' rooms, finding them both sound asleep. He kissed both of their foreheads softly before leaving, rubbing Lucky's head gently. He came out into the living-room, finding Natasha asleep on the couch. She was wearing one of his T-shirts, curled up around a cushion while a teleshopping channel played on the TV. He took the remote and turn off the channel before gently lifting Natasha off the couch.

And he realised she wasn't as asleep as he first thought.

"Clint?" she mumbled, bringing her hands up to wrap around his neck.

"Hi," he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple. "I'm carrying you into bed," he explained as she trailed her fingers though his hair.

Natasha nodded, trusting her husband as he walked them into their bedroom. As he laid her on their bed, she rolled to her side and opened her eyes to watch him undress. Clint smirked at her when he caught her watching but the red-head was not embarrassed; he was _her_ husband, she could admire his figure if she wanted to admire him.

"Miss me?" he asked as he climbed into the bed beside her after pulling on a pair of pyjama bottoms, wrapping his arms around her waist. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling into her hair when she cuddled into him. She nodded sleepily against his chest. Clint smiled; Natasha was never this vulnerable around anyone but him. It made him very proud that she could trust him like this; trust him to see Natasha under the layers of the Black Widow. "I love you," he whispered, moving to kiss her forehead.

"Я люблю тебя," she mumbled against his skin, her body relaxing into her husband's touch.

Clint chuckled. "Sleep, Любимая," he whispered, "I'll be here in the morning."

"C возвращением домой," she mumbled before finally letting sleep pull her into slumber.

Clint smiled and closed his eyes, listening to Natasha's breathing. He fell asleep after promising to himself that he would keep his family safe….

* * *

The next morning, Clint awoke to Erik climbing into the bed and burying himself underneath his father's arm. Clint pulled him closer and smiled as Erik pressed his face against his father's chest. "Morning, Buddy," he greeted, pressing a kiss to his son's head.

"Hi, Daddy," Erik replied, squirming when Clint brought his hands down to tickle him. "Don't, Daddy. Sleep. We sleep," he informed him, lifting his head and bringing his small hands up to push his cheeks together. "Sleep."

Clint chuckled. "Okay, sleep," he agreed, gently taking his son's hands from his face. "Where's Mama and Artyom?" he asked as he moved onto his back, letting Erik climb on top of him.

"Mama's feeding Artyom," Erik replied, nuzzling Clint's neck. "I missed you, Daddy."

Clint kissed his son's forehead. "I missed you too, Buddy." He felt his son nod and close his eyes, wrap his small arms around his neck. He responded by gently wrapping his arms around his son's back.

A few minutes later, Natasha appeared at the door, leaning her shoulder on the doorframe. She smiled as she watched Erik nap on her husband's chest, taking her time to admire the view. She had placed Artyom on his mat where he could play with his toys before coming to check on her other two boys.

"Does Mama want to join?" Clint asked, smiling at his wife; she hadn't gotten changed from what she wore to

Natasha grinned and walked over to the bed. She kneeled beside her husband and leaned down, kissing him softly. "You're tempting but breakfast is cooking," she whispered, pulling away so she could watch him smile.

"You're cooking for me?" he asked, smiling cheekily at his wife.

Natasha smiled and rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes. You were on a mission," she answered, kissing him again before standing up. "You can bring our oldest son with you," she informed him, leaning down to whisper in her son's ear, "I have your chocolate pancakes ready."

Erik immediately raised his head from where it lay on his father's chest. "Daddy, up," he stated, moving to let his father get up. Clint grinned and shook his head at his son. He stood up, picking Erik up and letting his son move so he could get a piggy back out to the kitchen. Natasha smiled and led them out into the kitchen, smiling when she found Lucky sitting watching Artyom protectively.

Keeping an eye on her youngest son, Natasha served out the pancakes while Clint carried Erik into the living-room. Her husband returned and placed his hands on her hips, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You're commando underneath this," he mumbled into her ear.

"Yes, Sir," she answered, tilting her head to the side so Clint could kiss along her skin.

Clint growled with approval. "Good girl," he whispered, bringing his hands up her stomach, stopping just shy of her breasts. "I'd like to play tonight," he whispered, sucking a mark into her skin.

Natasha smirked before moaning softly. "Whatever you want, Sir," she whispered, grinding her ass back against his groin.

Clint pushed further into her. "I missed you," he whispered, slipping his hand underneath her top, cupping her breast firmly.

"In more ways than one," she answered, twisting her head to smirk knowingly at him. "I missed you too," she added, kissing her husband softly.

Clint smiled. He teased her nipple between his thumb and index finger. He slipped his other hand to the apex of her thighs, his fingers finding her clit. Natasha's movements stuttered and she leaned back into her husband. She gasped his name, putting the plate and fork down as she brought her hands to grasp at Clint's forearm.

He worked her quickly, making sure their kids were busy with their toys.

"Clint, please," she whispered, burying her face in his neck. "Please. Please."

Clint grinned, kissing her neck. "I want to make you come around my fingers. Want to feel you fall apart for me," he whispered in his wife's ear.

Natasha brought one of her hands from grasping his arm up to his neck, holding him close to her. She murmured his name into his neck over and over, rolling her hips in time with his hand as he slipped two fingers inside her, using his thumb to play with her clit.

"Fall apart for me, Tasha," he ordered, curling his fingers against her G-spot. Natasha had to bite his neck in order to silence her scream as she came hard round his fingers. "Good girl," he praised as he worked her through the aftermaths of her orgasm. "Such a good girl."

Natasha gasped against the skin of his neck, pulling her lips from his skin. Her body shook in his arms, the aftershocks of her orgasms still affecting her. "Clint," she whispered, letting him slowly take his hand from her breast while his other still gently moved his fingers within her. He wrapped his free arm around her waist.

Clint slowly took his fingers from between her legs and brought them to his lips, sucking her fingers clean. "Tasty," he told her with a smug smirk. Natasha laughed and kissed him, moaning at the taste of herself.

The couple were interrupted when Erik ran into the kitchen. "Mama, Daddy, stop kissing. Breakfast," he told them, planting his small hands on his hips.

Natasha pulled away from her husband's lips and laughed at her son's actions. "Okay, Erik," she told her son, putting the rest of the pancakes on another plate. She handed Clint his plate and Erik's plate so he could carry them over to the kitchen counter. She brought her own plate and the extra plate over to the counter. She pressed a kiss to Erik's head before making her way out into the living-room to get Artyom.

Her youngest son giggled and squirmed as Natasha leaned down and picked him up. "Hi, my Little Hawk," she whispered, pressing her lips to her son's head before carrying him into the kitchen, strapping him into his high chair.

Clint grinned and stole a kiss from Natasha as she walked by, as well as pecking Artyom's head.

Natasha realised Clint had made her, her tea and his own coffee as she had brought Artyom in from the living-room. Erik was happily munching on his pancakes, smiling as his mother pressed her lips to the crown of his head.

Clint had a smug smirk on his face as she sat beside him, pulling Artyom's high chair to her. Natasha shook her head at her husband, acting as if he had not fingered her in the kitchen when she was serving their breakfast. She had a good feeling she would learn about why her husband wanted to play tonight within the course of the day…

* * *

Clint gently tossed Erik in the sky as the little boy giggled and laughed. Lucky barked at father and son, his tail waggling happily as he watch his masters.

Natasha walked into the living-room after putting Artyom down for the night, smiling at the sight.

Clint caught his son and brought him to his chest. “Bedtime soon, Buddy,” he whispered, making Erik shake his head.

“No, Daddy. Stay up. You only home,” Erik replied sleepily, cuddling into his father’s chest.

“Do you want Daddy to put you to bed?” Natasha asked, smiling when both of them turned to look at her.

Erik nodded, wrapping his arms around Clint’s neck. Natasha smiled and walked over to kiss her son’s forehead. “Good night, Erik,” she whispered.

“Night night, Mama,” Erik mumbled, his eyes sliding closed.

Clint and Natasha shared a smile over Erik’s head. She pecked her husband’s lips before he carried their oldest son into his bedroom, the red-head smirking as Lucky followed the two. When they disappeared from her sight, she made her way into the bedroom and through to their playroom.

She quickly stripped as she walked through the room, dumping her clothes in the hamper before kneeling, her hands placed on her knees and waited.

She heard Clint as he entered their bedroom, the rustling of fabric telling her he was stripping. He appeared at the door of their playroom, dressed simply in his boxers. He leaned against the doorframe, taking in her naked appearance. Slowly, he moved from his place and walked over to her, crouching down to cup her face with one hand.

She met her eyes with his, watching him carefully. “Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes dilated.

“Yes, Sir,” she answered, wanting to do whatever her husband needed her to do.

Clint nodded. “Stand up,” he ordered as he stood up.

Natasha followed, letting her husband led her over to the bed they had in the room. She lay down on the bed upon his order, keeping her eyes locked on his. She stretched her arms over her head, giving Clint an enticing view of her breasts.

Clint closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying himself as he decided what he wanted to do first and control his desire to simply take her hard on the bed. "Should I tie you up, Mrs. Barton?" he asked, trailing one hand along her body, pinching her nipples playfully.

"Yes,  _Sir_ ," she breathed, her eyes trailing over her husband's body appreciatively. "I’m yours to do what you please."

Clint grinned and made his way over to their toy box, taking out a pair of cuffs. Natasha expected him to cuff her wrists, but he attached each cuff above her elbows, the soft fur on the inside surrounded by firm leather on the outside. It made her arch her back, pushing her breasts forward, easy for Clint’s touch. When he finished, he stood back to admire her. “Feel okay?” he asked.

Because of her flexibility, the usually uncomfortable position posed no problem to the red-head. Already wired with anticipation to see where he was going, she nodded instead of speaking, waiting for him to tell her exactly what he wanted her to do.

Natasha watches him as he steps back and grabbed a bottle of massage oil from where he had tossed it on his bed. Rubbing his hands together, he walked back over to her. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, down to her jaw following her jawline. Her body reacted immediately as his touch sends a delicious shiver through her. His hand flexed over her neck before gliding his hand smoothly down her throat, across her clavicle, and up to her shoulder, his fingers kneading gently as they moved. Natasha moaned when she realised that she was on the receiving end of a massage. He moved to straddle her hips, putting no pressure on her.

"What are the safe words, Mrs. Barton?" he whispered as he placed his other hand on her other shoulder and began another slow teasing journey across her clavicle. She groaned softly as he worked his way down toward her aching breasts, aching for his touch. She arched her body further into his deft touch, but his hands glide to her sides, slow and measured like the sniper he was, and studiously avoid her breasts. She groaned, but she didn’t know if it’s from pleasure or frustration.

"Red for stop and black for slow down," she whispered, watching him through hooded eyes.

“You are so beautiful, Tasha,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, as he moved his mouth next to her ear. His nose followed along her jaw as he continued to massage her — beneath her breasts, across her belly, down towards... He stopped the movements of his hand and kissed her chastely on her lips. He ran his nose down her neck, smiling when she tipped her head back and moaned.

His fingers ran through her small thatch of pubic hair, over the length sex, and he rubs the palm of his hand against her clit. “Mrs. Barton, you’re such a good girl for me,” he whispered as he worked his palm against her. She groaned, her walls fluttering as he slide two fingers inside her. “Yes,” he breathed as his palm and fingers continued to tease her. “Open your mouth,” he ordered despite her mouth being already open from panting. She opened wider, and he slips a large cool metal object between her lips. Because she had her eyes closed, she didn’t see what he had placed in her mouth. It was shaped like an oversized baby’s pacifier, designed with small grooves or carvings, and what feels like a chain at the end. It was big. “Suck,” he commanded softly. “I’m going to put this inside you.”

Natasha moaned at the thought of where he could place the object other than her mouth. “Suck,” he repeated and he stopped fingering her. She wanted to protest but her mouth was full. His oiled hands glided back up her body and finally cupped her neglected breasts. “Don’t stop sucking.” Gently he rolled my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, and they harden and lengthen under his expert touch. His action sent synaptic waves of pleasure all the way to her groin. “You have such beautiful breasts, Tasha,” he murmured and her nipples harden further in response. He murmured his approval and she moaned loudly around the object between her lips.

He moved his lips down from her neck toward one breast, trailing soft bites and sucks over and over her skin until he reached her nipple. Suddenly, she felt the pinch of a nipple clamp. She gasped at the suddenness around the object in her mouth. Gently, he lapped at the restrained nipple with his tongue, and at the same time, applied the other. The bite of the second clamp wass equally harsh but just as good. She groaned loudly.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Give me this.” He tugged gently on the ornate metal pacifier in her mouth, and she released it. His hands trailed down her body, toward my sex. He re-oiled his hands. They glided around to my backside, making her gasp. She finally realised that he had made her get a butt plug ready for herself.

“So good,” he whispered close to her ear and kissed her neck as his fingers stroked and teased her. His other hand glided down her belly to her sex, palming her once more. He eased his fingers inside her, and she moaned loudly, appreciatively in reply. “I’m going to put this inside you,” he murmured. “Not here.” He moved his fingers inside her, hitting the front wall of her cunt. “But here,” he promised as his fingers trailed between her ass cheeks, spreading oil.

She moaned and her restrained nipples swelled within their confines. “Clint.”

Clint removed his fingers from where he had slid them inside her back entrance, replacing it with the butt plug. After wiping his hands on the towel beside her – that she hadn’t realised was there – he cupped her face and kissed her, his tongue invading her. She heard a very faint click. Instantly, the plug inside her started to vibrate, making her moan out in response. “Clint!”

"Mrs. Barton, tut tut. You're messing up the sheets," he teased, slowly pulling his fingers from her cunt. Then he brought them to her lips. "Open and suck," he ordered, smirking smugly when Natasha's eyes widened in surprised desire. She did as she was told, wrapping her lush lips around his finger. She hollowed her cheeks as she sucked, grinning up at him when he growled at her moaning at the taste of herself.

Natasha kept her eyes on Clint's as she sucked his finger. His hands moved down from her face to her breasts and he tugged very gently on the clamps.

Natasha cried out loudly. “Clint, please!”

“Hush, Baby. Hang in there.” In this room was the only place he could get away with calling her ‘ _Baby_ ’. It was too much for her; all this overstimulation, everywhere. Her body started to climb, and on her back with her legs spread per Clint’s request, she was unable to control the build.

“Good girl,” he soothed, pressing a kiss to her jawline.

“Clint,” she panted, sounding desperate even to her own ears.

“Relax, Tasha. Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I’ll catch you.” His hands were now on her waist, holding her, but she couldn’t concentrate on his hands, what was inside her, and the clamps; the combination driving her crazy.

Clint’s hands moved from her hips, down her body, slick and oiled, touching, feeling, kneading her skin. “ I've got you, Tasha," he whispered softly. He slowly slid two fingers inside her, making Natasha gasp. "Oh Mrs. Barton, you are so ready for me," he breathed into her ear, using his teeth to pull on her right earlobe. His fingers slid in and out of her, hitting her G-spot in time with the vibrations of the butt plug.

"Shush," he whispered, cupping her left breast, gently brushing his thumb under her clamped nipple. Natasha moaned and arched up into her touch. His fingers were gentle on her skin. Then he lowered his mouth to her right nipple, lapping at the restrained nipple, groaning at the taste of breast milk that leaked into his mouth.

"Clint. Please. Oh God," she begged, tossing her head back as he teased her nipples. She knew she needed his permission before she could come. And she wouldn't come until he let her come.

Natasha nodded, not trusting her voice.

"You're all mine, Mrs. Barton," he whispered, kissing her softly. He grinned when she leaned up to his touch, her green eyes dilated almost black with pleasure; she was so close but wouldn’t do anything without his permission.

"All yours, Mr. Barton," she whispered huskily.

Kissing her deeply, Clint shed his boxers before grasping himself and placing the head of his cock at her entrance. “Let’s make you come,” he whispered. When Natasha nodded, her eyes begging him to let her come, he released her elbows from the cuffs, tossing them to the floor before slowly sank his cock deep inside her cunt.

Natasha cried out as Clint pushed inside her, handing on by a thread as he filled her up. Clint pulled her against his body, tugging on her nipple clamps as he waited for her to adjust. Her thighs trembled with the pleasure she had coursing through her body; the vibrations from her ass with her nibbles restrained and her cunt wrapped around his cock. She was ready to come; she only needed his permission.

“Want me to fill you up? Want to hear what you want me to do, Tasha?" he teased, his voice low and husky with pleasure as he watched her quiver in ecstasy around his cock.

"Oh God," Natasha gasped. Her eyes were squeezed shut with pleasure, her nails digging into Clint's biceps as she struggled to control her body and think coherently. But she was too far gone. "Want you to fill me up. Want you to mark me. Come inside me. Please. Please, Clint. Fill me up. Make me come. Please," she begged, sobbing out in pleasure when he moved one hand around to her ass, moving the vibrating plug in time with his movements as he slowly began to move his cock inside her.

“Mmmm,” he agreed, thrusting hard inside her. “Come for me, Tasha. Now," Clint ordered, no longer wanting to deny his wife of her orgasm.

Natasha tossed her head back in pure ecstasy and she screamed his name loudly, coming hard around her husband's cock. Her nails dug into his biceps, leaving half-crescent moons in his muscled skin. Her fluttering, clenching walls tried to entice her archer into his own orgasm. But he was able to hold off, continuing to thrust inside her, prolonging her pleasure. She repeated his name over and over as he thrust his cock deep inside her clenching cunt.

As Natasha’s body exploded with a second, stronger, bout of pleasure, Clint released first one and then the other clamp, causing her nipples to sing with a surge of sweet, painful feeling, but it was oh-so-good and causing her second orgasm to go on and on. He slowed the movements of thrusting his cock inside her, gently easing in and out.

“Clint!” She cried out, and Clint wrapped himself around her, holding her, as my body continues to pulse mercilessly around him. “No!” She shouted, pleading, and this time he tugged the vibrator out of her ass and his cock from her cunt as her body continues to convulse. Her head lolled on his shoulder. She was lost, lost to all this overwhelming sensation her husband had treated her to. She was all shattered breath, exhausted desire and sweet, welcomed oblivion.

Vaguely, she was aware when Clint lifted her and shifted so she was lying on his chest. After a moment, his hands, still oiled, gently rub the backs of her thighs, knees, calves, and shoulders, avoiding her breasts, sex and ass that were always too sensitive after such an intense orgasm. She didn’t have the energy to open her eyes. He gently runs his hands through her head and leaned down, kissing her softly. Only her erratic breathing disturbed the silence in the room, slowly steadying as she recovered in his arms.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to her forehead. When she finally opened her eyes, she found him gazing down at her, smiling softly.

“Hi,” he whispered. She managed a soft grunt in response, and his smile broadened proudly. “You okay, Baby?”

She nodded and gave him a happy grin. “I think you’re trying to kill me,” she muttered.

“Death by orgasm.” He smirked. “There are worse ways to go,” he offered but then frowned ever so slightly as an unpleasant thought crossed his mind.

Natasha frowned; what was he hiding from her. She wouldn’t push him to tell her before he was ready but she didn’t want him to spend time worrying about something when they were in this room. She reached up and caressed his face softly, making him look at her again. “You can kill me like this anytime,” she whispered. Then she noticed that he was still gloriously naked and ready for action. When he took her hand and kissed my knuckles, she leaned up and captured his face between her hands, pulling his mouth to hers. He kissed her briefly before stopping.

“This is what I want to do,” he murmured and reached beneath his pillow for the music centre remote. He pressed a button and the soft strains of a piano echo round the walls. “I want to make love to you,” he says gazing down at her, his grey eyes burning with bright, loving sincerity.

Natasha cupped his face and kissed him again, smiling against his lips. “I’m yours to do what you please,” she promised. Reaching between them, she grasped the base of his cock and she sunk down on him, making them both moan loudly in reply. She moved her hips over his, her husband clasping at her thighs as she rode him.

Within minutes, they were coming together. As she tightened around him, finding her release once more, Clint unravelled in her arms, his head thrown back as he called out her name. He clasped her tightly to his chest as we sit nose to nose in the middle of his vast bed, her astride him. The archer pulled her as close as was possible as he spilled inside her before they both collapsed against each other and down onto the satin sheets of the bed. The couple panted heavily as they recovered from their respective orgasms. They kissed languorously, smiling and chuckling in delight, their hands trailing over each other's bodies, lovingly caressing each and every part they could get their hands on….

* * *

Later they showered together, coaxing another orgasm from each other before finding their way to their bed. Natasha changed into one of Clint's shirts while he pulled on a pair of pyjama bottoms. Clint brought her a glass of water after checking to make sure their boys were okay.

Natasha moaned sleepily as she felt Clint climb into the bed behind her, the archer's arms wrapping around her waist protectively. She twisted her head to ask if everything was okay but was greeted by a soothing kiss from her husband.

"Sleep, Tasha. Everything's okay. Our boys are still asleep," he whispered, pulling her back against his front.

Natasha could only nod sleepily in reply, allowing the steady comforting thud of her husband's heartbeat lull her into a peacefully sleep. She'd promised herself to find out what he was hiding from her tomorrow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint's hiding things from Natasha.... Not a good idea


	5. Damnit, Don't Hide From Me!

The press of soft lips pressing against his woke Clint from his slumber. He smiled and wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, holding him close to her. She moved so she was lying on top of him, her tongue slipping inside his parted lips.

Natasha moved her knees either side of his hips, grinning into the kiss. It was then that her husband realised that she was wearing a pair of his boxers. "The boys are awake," he mumbled into her mouth.

She hummed in response before breaking the kiss. "Yes. Artyom is fed and out in his playpen and Erik is sitting on the couch watching Tom & Jerry," she informed him, sitting up and tracing one finger along the scars on his sternum.

Clint smiled and sat up, kissing her softly. "I love you, Mrs. Barton," he whispered softly into her mouth.

"I love you too, Mr. Barton," she whispered, breaking the kiss as she brought her hands up to trail through his hair. "Are you going to tell me what you've hiding from me?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

Clint opened his mouth to protest before the couple were interrupted by their oldest son running into the room and jumping onto the bed. "Come on, Daddy, up. Breakfast then zoo!" he exclaimed, jumping onto his father. Natasha shook her head and kissed the top of Erik's head before climbing off of Clint to check on Artyom.

Clint climbed out of the bed with Erik in his arms, carrying the four-year-old out into the living-room, finding Natasha leaning on the side of the playpen. She was smiling and cooing to Artyom as the infant tried to sit unaided for longer than he was used to. Clint smiled at the sight as he and Erik watched Natasha reach down and gently took the hawk soft toy and brought it up to Artyom's face.

Natasha smiled as Artyom giggled, stuffing his small fist in his mouth, his legs moving in delight. "You and your brother are going to be heartbreakers, lapushka," the red-head informed her youngest son.

"Like their mother," Clint added from where he and Erik stood in the doorway, Erik's arms wrapped around his father's neck.

"It's a Russian thing," she replied, her eyes never leaving from where she was smiling down at Artyom. "You're cooking, Barton," she added.

Clint opened his mouth before remembering that Natasha had indeed cooked yesterday. He set Erik down so he could run over to his mother. "Any requests?" he asked, making Natasha finally look up.

"Easy and healthy," she answered before Artyom caught her hand, distracting her.

Clint sighed and walked into the kitchen; he'd known Natasha wouldn't take long to realise something was up. Biting his lip, he opened the fridge and took in the different ingredients. Deciding that the Belgian Blueberry waffles were in order, he grabbed what he needed and turned, finding his wife standing at the kitchen counter. "Am I being interrogated?" he asked, walking to the sink to prepare their breakfast.

"If you weren't hiding something, we could have been having a normal family morning," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you hiding from me, Clint?"

"I'm not hiding anything, Tasha," he replied, looking over his shoulder at his wife.

"Clint, you and I both know very well I know when you're lying to me," she replied, her eyes narrowing at her husband's back. God help her, if he lies again, she was not going to be responsible for what she -…

"I'm not-…" he started before she cut him off.

"Damnit, don't lie to me! I am your wife!" she hissed at him, her green eyes bright with anger and worry. "I am your partner! I am the mother of _your_ children! So fucking level with me right now!"

Clint swallowed and turned around to face his wife. "Buck Chisholm, the original Trick Shot, approached me. After I rang you, he showed up. It turns out he needs me and Barney to get his granddaughter, Olivia Chisholm. She was kidnapped by his former colleague, Jacques Duquesne known as Swordsman. That's what I was hiding, Tasha," he informed her, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "I can't let Duquesne get away with hurting another child, Natasha. He used to hurt Buck's daughter too. Until Barney and I found out and stopped him. And told Buck."

Natasha leaned back against the counter, her mouth opening and closing several times. Then she finally asked, "Why didn't you tell me, Clint? Do you not trust me to have your back? After everything we have been through?"

Clint shook his head. "No. No, that's not why…" he tried to tell her but his words failed him.

Natasha frowned and pushed her hips off the counter, walking over to her husband. She cupped his face between her hands, making him look up from the floor so their eyes met. "We're a team, Clint. We promised to share our problems. Please don't keep secrets from me."

"I don't want you to deal with my demons," he mumbled softly, wrapping his arms around his wife's waist.

"You helped me with mine. Do you really think I'd let you deal with yours alone?" she asked, resting her forehead against his. "You're my husband, Clint. You're the father of my children, biological or not. You helped me remake myself when I was broken. You taught me how to love again. And you love me despite knowing everything about me. I'm not letting you deal with your past without me, just like you didn't let me."

Clint closed his eyes as he let Natasha's touch soothe him. "I'll tell you everything," he promised, holding her closer.

"Thank you," she whispered, kissing her husband softly…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before someone kills me for this short chapter; there is a reason for it ;)


	6. It's Daddy In Green And A Hood!

Natasha smiled softly as she checked on Erik and Artyom, before turning to Clint as he sat at the kitchen counter, looking into his coffee cup. She walked over to her husband and gently laid her hand on his shoulder. Clint covered her hand with his own, bringing it to his mouth and kissing her knuckles above her rings. She frowned and took a seat beside him. “Clint?” she prompted.

Clint closed his eyes, as if remembering a painful memory. “When I was seventeen, Barney and I were recruited for a mission with Chisholm and Duquesne. Rob some guy who had come to the circus to watch a show with his son. In and out, no interaction with the two. But it didn’t end up that way. The father was killed by Duquesne while Barney and I let the kid, not much older than eight go. Duquesne wanted to kill us but Chisholm aimed an arrow at me. But then he caught sight of the kid and turned on Duquesne. They fought as Barney and I got the boy out of there. Turned in both. I was eighteen by the time they were brought to court. I joined the army soon afterwards,” he confessed, opening his eyes to look at her. “That kid saw his father bleed out in front of him. Barney and I refused to let an innocent kid be killed.”

Natasha frowned and took both of her husband’s hands in hers as she sat down beside him. There were no words to comfort him. Clint tightened his hands around hers as he continued, “After I rang you to tell you I was coming home from the latest mission, I ran into Chisholm. He told me about Duquesne taking his Granddaughter for letting Barney and me get away.” He looked up at her. “I thought about how I’d feel if someone kidnapped Erik and Artyom for revenge. How I’d feel if they took you. So I agreed to help him. He handed me this,” he told her, pulling out a 2GB memory stick, “Which is a video Duquesne sent him. Proof of Olivia’s life.”

Natasha’s eyes slid closed and brought her husband’s hands to her mouth. “Do you think it’s real?” she asked, opening her eyes to look at him.

Clint nodded. “I cross-checked it with the programme you made. It’s authentic.”

Natasha bit the inside of her lip. “What’s the plan?”

“I ask Barney whether he’s in or not. Then we contact Chisholm who’s waiting to see what Duquesne wants. He’ll contact me when he gets the ransom details.”

“If Barney doesn’t want in on this, I’m not letting you deal with this alone,” she told him.

Clint wanted to argue but he knew there would be little chance of him winning the argument; when Natasha decided something, there was little to change her mind. “Okay,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. “I wanted to keep you safe from my past,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her waist, while her arms went around his neck.

Natasha buried her face in his neck. “The whole idea of marriage is spending your life with the person who has seen you at your best and your lowest and still wanted to spend their lives with you. And sharing their problems so they know they’re not alone,” she whispered against his neck. “I’m not letting you deal with this alone.”

Clint nuzzled her neck, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent. “I love you,” he whispered against her skin.

“I love you too,” she whispered, lifting her head to look him in the eye. “And until we know what’s going on,” she started, slowly pulling away and taking his hands in hers, “I vote that we spend time with our sons without our past or jobs taking us away from family time.”

Clint smiled. “I agree with you,” he whispered, standing up and letting her lead him out into the living-room. Artyom was lying on his back, chewing on his toys while Erik was filling in the colouring book Phil had gotten him as a present. Lucky was lying beside Artyom’s playpen while looking at Erik.

Erik looked up and smiled when Natasha and Clint entered the living-room. “Mama, Daddy, look!” he exclaimed, turning his book to show his parents a picture of Green Arrow. “It’s Daddy in green and a hood!”

Natasha laughed and walked over to her eldest son, kissing his forehead softly. “Very good, Erik! You’re doing very well to stay inside the lines,” she whispered, sitting down beside the three-year-old, observing the almost perfect coloured picture: she wondered what else her son could do as a result of his time in the Red Room.

Clint mock-pouted at Erik. “My suit is cooler than Green Arrow’s,” he protested half-heartedly, making Natasha look up with an amused smirk. “I concede that I need a hood.”

Natasha hid her face in Erik’s hair as she laughed. Clint mock-glared at her before he walked over to Artyom, smiling when his son made ‘grabby-hands’ up at him. “Hey, Little Hawk, you still think I’m cool,” he whispered to the six-month-old as he gently lifted him out of the playpen. Artyom caught Clint’s chain and pushed it in his mouth as Clint held him against his chest. The twenty-eight-year-old smiled as  he pressed his lips to Artyom’s head and walked over to the couch.

Natasha smiled as her husband sat down beside her. Erik climbed into her lap and leaned against her. He picked up another pencil and continued to colour in his picture. Clint pressed his lips against Natasha’s head, smiling as he watched Erik as well. He looked down at Artyom as he continued to gum at his chain, his small fist stuffed in his mouth. Lucky stood and stretched before making his way over to the couch and climbing up beside Erik, resting his head against the three-year-old’s thigh.

Having his family there, safe away from any of his past demons, made Clint forget about everything outside their home and his past. And he was going to keep it that way….


	7. Your Focus Determines Your Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! :)
> 
> Thank you to Ashley and Kate for proof-reading this :) Much love ladies :) xx
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS IN THIS CHAPTER.

_"That's not enough!" Jacques shouted at Clint, bringing the whip down on the ten-year-old's back, making Clint cry out at the sudden pain. "I am looking for perfection, Barton, not some half-assed piece of crap. I took you and your brother in. I need something in return for it. And so far? Not good enough."_

_Clint stood up and notched the arrow again, focusing on the bullseye. In, out, just like Buck had instructed him. Hand beside his cheek, fingers against his mouth, wrist facing inwards. On the exhale, let go. The arrow sailed better this time, hitting the edge of the bullseye._

_"Better," Buck called out before Jacques could hit the boy. "Work on your speed, boy. You must be quicker with each shot."_

_Clint looked at the older archer and nodded, mindful of his mentor silently fuming behind him. "The bow is too heavy," the ten-year-old complained, making Buck raise an eyebrow. "It doesn't balance for me."_

_Buck stepped forward and instructed Clint to step back into hold. Clint did as he was told, notching a new arrow, mindful not to drop it again and to go quicker than the last time; he didn't want another kick to the back of his knees or a punch to the ribs and stomach. Buck adjusted Clint's right arm so his elbow was in line with his shoulder before pushing down on his left shoulder. "That feel better?" Buck asked, stepping back to look at the boy's posture before realising the bow was, indeed, a bit too big for the kid._

_Clint found the new posture was better but still felt off balance. "Yes, sir," he half-lied._

_"Try again," Buck ordered._

_Clint focused on the bullseye and let out a breath, releasing the arrow. It landed in the bullseye, millimetres from the dead centre._

_Jacques looked impressed, turning to face Buck. "Is he good enough?" he asked, making Clint pause, not wanting to hear Buck's answer if it was negative._

_Buck looked back at Clint before returning his gaze to Jacques. "Leave him with me. I'll make him into your best act," he replied._

_Jacques nodded before leaving, muttering something about getting the rest of the group ready for tonight's performance._

_Clint laid his bow down carefully on the table before moving to collect the arrows. Buck watched him, arms folded over his chest as he eyed the boy's movements; Clint was limping, favouring his left side. He kept his head down as he returned to the bench._

_"What next, Sir?" Clint asked, pocketing the arrows back into the quiver._

_"Sit down," Buck ordered, taking a seat in front of the bench. Clint did as he was told, sitting beside the older archer. "I'm going to be frank with you, boy. You need to be more distant with the rest of the circus. You and your training will need it. You're afraid to be touched; use that as your excuse. Until you are the best, you can't let anyone distract you. Not even your brother."_

_Clint frowned but nodded. "Yes, Sir," he answered, willing to do anything to be better than he was at the moment._

_"Your focus determines your reality, boy," Buck continued, making the ten-year-old look at him. "I've noticed that you get distracted easily. That needs to change. You need to focus solely on your target while knowing everything around you. If you don't, I can't teach you and that means that you and your brother will be back out on the streets. So you got to work with me. Got it?"_

_Clint nodded. "Yes, Sir."_

_Buck nodded. "Now… Let's make you a new bow. Handmade are always better as long as you have the proper materials," he started, standing up and leading the boy out of the tent._

* * *

Natasha sat up when she felt her husband tossing and turning in the bed beside her. She gently moved back down, moving to her side and gently placing her hand on his chest. His heart hammered against the palm of her hand. She pressed her lips to his shoulder, waiting for him to wake up on his own.

She didn't have to wait long. Clint sat up, breathing heavily as he gazed unfocused at the far wall. She gently lay down beside him, waiting for him to lie back down; she knew if she touched him, he would most likely attack her before realising that it was her.

He, eventually, lay back down on the bed, finding her hand with his own. "Sorry," he whispered as she moved her head to the crook of his neck.

"It's okay," she replied, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of his neck. "Want to talk about it?"

Clint pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her and the vanilla/lavender shampoo she used earlier. "It was the first time I used a bow under Buck's guidance," he whispered, wrapping one arm around her waist as she moved to blanket his body with her own, one leg between his. "Every time I went too slow, Chisholm punched me. Every time I dropped an arrow, Chisholm kicked me. When I didn't hit the centre, Duquesne used a whip on my back or used the cigarettes to burn my arm. Sometimes, my chest. The pain made it more difficult… But I eventually learned how to make them stop by becoming better. I became better than they expected me to."

Natasha pressed another kiss to his skin, frowning as he spoke. She moved to straddle him, resting her forehead against his. "You're not there anymore, Yastreb," she whispered, making sure he focused on her. "You are not the criminal they tried to make you."

He leaned up and kissed her deeply, unable to put what he wanted to say into words. She moaned in surprise but kissed back, bringing one hand to cup the back of his head. Clint sat up, pulling her tight against him as he deepened the kiss. He fisted her shirt in his left hand, his right hand coming up to cup the back of her head. He slipped his tongue into Natasha's mouth, humming when she moaned into the kiss. Slowly, he slid his left hand under her shirt, splaying his hand against the small of her back.

Natasha broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his. "Let me take care of you tonight, Clint," she whispered, pressing soft kisses along her husband's face.

Clint sighed and nodded, letting Natasha push him back down onto the bed. She kissed him lightly before climbing off of him and reaching over to the bedside locker, taking out a bottle of massage oil. "Turn over," she ordered softly, making Clint raise an eyebrow at his wife before doing as she instructed. She poured some of the oil onto her hands before massaging it into his bare shoulders, rubbing the tension away.

"Shouldn't we be in the playroom?" he whispered, looking at her as he twisted his head on the pillow, looking over his shoulder.

Natasha smiled and leaned down, kissing his cheek. "No. I just want you to relax," she whispered against his cheek. "Then you can have your way with me, _Sir_ ," she whispered, making him groan as she pressed her thumbs into the hard knots of stress in his shoulders.

"Is this what I have been missing out on all these years?" he asked, letting his eyes close in pleasure as Natasha worked his shoulders.

Natasha smiled and kissed the spot between his shoulder blades, bringing her hands further down his back. "My massages… Yes," she whispered, pressing her hands against his spine, frowning when a few of his vertebrae clicked back into sync. "What have I told you about going to bed without stretching if your back is stiff?" she asked, pressing a nipping kiss to his neck.

"It's not the only thing stiff," he mumbled, making her chuckle lightly. "You're really good at this," he added as she stroked her hands along his triceps.

"You use your arms and shoulders more than any other part of your body," she whispered, grinning when he hummed his agreement. "Except… for when you have me at your mercy," she purred, making him groan in response.

"Tasha," he groaned, earning a saucy grin. "You're wet," he observed; she was wearing a thong under his shirt and he could feel her dripping through the lace fabric.

"All for you, Clint," she promised, making him growl in response. She grinned and grinded her hips against the curve of his ass while bringing her hands back to his shoulders. "Are you going to punish me, _Sir_?" she purred.

Clint moved suddenly, pinning Natasha to the bed, her hands above her head. She grinned cheekily up at him before he kissed her, making her moan loudly into the kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her so she could feel just stiff he was against her.

He broke the kiss and brought one hand down to the apex of her thighs, grinning when her breathing hitched. He pushed her thong to the side before sliding two fingers inside her. He leaned down and sucked a mark onto her neck, pumping his fingers slowly in and out of her. She arched into him, moaning as he hooked his fingers inside her.

"Clint," she gasped, biting her bottom lip to stop her from moaning too loudly. "Fuck. Please."

He lifted his head to grin at her. "You said I could do whatever I wanted," he pointed out, making her grin as she arched up into him.

"I did, didn't I?" she purred, making him groan as she pressed her breasts up against his chest. "What are you going to do to me, Sir?" she asked, her voice low and husky as he continued to pump his fingers inside her.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Make you come for me," he promised, nipping her earlobe and making her whimper at the contact. "Over and over until you beg me to stop." He grinned when she arched against him, rocking her hips in time with the movement of his fingers. Suddenly, he pulled back, his hands finding the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. He leaned back down and kissed her, grinning against her mouth when she moaned his name. She made to bring her hands to his neck but he pinned her arms above her head, making her groan in response. "Now, now, Mrs. Barton," he whispered, breaking the kiss. "Did I say you could touch?"

Natasha bit her bottom lip before shaking her head. "No, Sir," she replied, smiling when he lowered his head and pressed wet kisses to the tops of her breasts. She spread her legs wider, cradling his weight against her. "May I touch you?" she pleaded, earning a growl from her husband. "I would like to touch you."

"Mmmm…" Clint hummed, moving further down her body until he had his face between her legs. "You may put your hands on my head," he told her before sliding his hands up her thighs and ripping her thong from her. She groaned, immediately bringing her hands down to his hair, her fingers tightening around the locks of hair, holding his head as he buried his face against her core. She whimpered loudly, bucking her hips as he brought one hand to cup the back of her ass while his other hand pushed her leg over his shoulder. He ran his tongue along her sex before pushing it inside her entrance, humming when she moaned his name loudly, bucking her hips against his face.

Clint hummed and pressed harder against her, holding her hips tightly. He slowly brought his lips to her clit, replacing his tongue with two fingers, grinning when she cried out his name. He hooked his fingers upwards, grinning when he felt her thighs tense either side of his head, her fingers tightening around his hair. He added a third, lapping at her folds quickly in between sucking her clit. When he suddenly quicken his pace, Natasha cried out as she came, her thighs closing in on his head. He removed his fingers and lapped at her sex, guiding her down from her orgasm. She whimpered as he flicked her clit with his tongue before he slowly kissed his way up her body.

"Hello," he whispered before claiming her lips with his own. She hummed her delight, moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue. He grinned into the kiss, lowering his weight against her. Breaking the kiss, he dropped to press a soft kiss beneath her jaw.

"Switch?" Natasha requested, making him raise an eyebrow. He slowly nodded, rolling them over so he was lying on his back. Natasha smiled and kissed his lips softly before slowly making her way down his body. She placed several kisses along his chest and abs, paying more attention to his various scars. He groaned at the sensation of her lips trailing along his skin and scars. She brought her hands to the hem of his pyjama bottoms, slowly pulling them down. Clint groaned, lifting his hips to help her. She grinned up at him and tugged the pyjamas off of him before taking him in her hand. He groaned loudly as she slowly stroked his cock, placing her free hand on his thigh.

"Tasha, please," he whispered, not really knowing what he wanted.

Natasha grinned up at her husband before lowering her mouth, taking him as deep as she could. She hummed when he groaned, slowly bobbing her head, breathing through her nose. She stroked the base of his cock in time with her movements, grinning up at him when he he grunted her name before cursing. Natasha pulled off of him, continuing to stroke him as she looked up at him. "Yes, Sir?" she purred throatily, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his cock.

"Get up here," he growled, reaching down for her as he pulled himself up against the headboard. She met him halfway, moaning into the kiss as he lifted her into his lap. He maneuverered her over him, pulling her close to him, her breasts pressed up against his chest. "Ride me, Tasha," he whispered huskily into her mouth.

"Gladly," she replied, leaning down and grabbing his cock, guiding him inside her as she sunk down on him. They both moaned loudly at the sensation of his cock filling her up. She stopped moving when the back of her thighs rested on the tops of his. She deepened the kiss, bringing her left hand to cup the back of her husband's head.

Clint brought both hands to her hips, slowly lifting her up before pulling her back down, making her moan into his mouth. He grinned as she broke the kiss, resting her forehead against his as she moved with him. He planted his feet on the mattress as she moved faster, meeting her thrust for thrust. Natasha kissed him again, moaning and nipping on his bottom lip as she moved her hips over his.

"Tasha," he groaned as he broke the kiss, dropping his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth. He sucked and nipped on the sensitive bud, earning a loud mewl of pleasure from his wife. She still had her left hand on the back of his neck, holding him to her as he sucked on her tits and bucked his hips underneath hers. She brought her right hand to his left knee, using his leg as leverage to help her move faster.

Clint brought one hand between them, his fingers easily finding her swollen clit as she worked herself on him. She whimpered when he started to rub the bundle of nerves in time with her movement. "Clint. Fuck," she gasped, biting her bottom lip as she tightened around him. "I'm close. So… Fuck!" she shouted, cutting herself off when Clint suddenly pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger. She arched against him as she came hard around his cock, whimpering as she buried him deep inside her, her walls clenching methodically around him.

He wrapped both arms around her waist as she came, pulling her against him and thrusting deep up into her a few more times before he came himself, grunting her name as he spilled inside her. She found his mouth with her own, kissing him deeply as they rode out their orgasms. Clint nipped playfully on her bottom lip, making her laugh lightly before pulling away to rest her forehead against his. Natasha brought both hands to his head, gently trailing her fingers through his hair.

" _I can hardly believe that you're mine_ ," he whispered against her lips, making Natasha laugh breathlessly. "What did I ever do in a previous life to have you as my wife?"

Natasha smiled and kissed him softly. "You saw me when everyone else assumed they knew who I was," she whispered.

Clint smiled and moved them so they were lying down, making Natasha whimper as his limp cock slipped from inside her. He pulled the sheets over them, cradling Natasha against his chest. She laid her head on his chest, her eyes sliding closed as her husband wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his body.

"Mmmm… Feeling better?" she whispered against his skin. He chuckled and nodded, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"Much better. Like the way you always do," he whispered, pulling her closer to him.

She tried to move, making him pout at her. "You know what Erik is like, Clint," she whispered, pressing a placating kiss to his lips. "We need to put on some sort of clothing."

Clint continued to pout but let her climb out of the bed. She made her way over to the closet, smirking when she spotted Clint watching her ass in the mirror. She twisted her head over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him, making him grin. "I'm innocent," he replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

Natasha shook her head at her husband. She grabbed one of Clint's fresh shirts and pulled it over her head before grabbing a fresh pair of his boxers and pulling them up her lean legs. Clint whistled lowly as she turned around, bringing his hands behind his head. Natasha smirked and grabbed a second pair of boxers before returning to the bed. She handed him the boxers as she climbed onto her side of the bed. He pulled on his boxers before rolling over to spoon Natasha as she lay beside him.

" _Have I told you lately that I love you?_ " he whispered in her ear, making her snort with laughter.

"First Westlife, now Van Morrison. Getting into your Irish and Northern Irish music, Yastreb?" she teased, looking at him over her shoulder.

Clint grinned and stole a languid kiss. "I'm a hopeless romantic bastard," he whispered against her lips.

"You're my hopeless romantic husband," she corrected, smiling as she slowly broke the kiss. "I love you, Clint," she whispered.

"I love you too, Tasha," he whispered, hugging her close to him…

* * *

Natasha groaned as she felt Clint climb out of the bed from where he had been spooning her. He chuckled and pressed his lips to her temple gently. "Artyom's awake," he whispered before climbing out of the bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the floor and leaving the room. Natasha rolled onto the warm spot her husband had left, sighing as she buried her face into the pillow. Moments later, she smiled when she felt a light weight climb onto the end of the bed. She twisted her head to the side as Erik crawled up to the pillows. "You're supposed to be in bed," she greeted, raising an eyebrow at him.

Erik grinned and pointed to the bed. "I am in bed, Mama," he told her cheekily, making Natasha shake her head at her son. She twisted onto her back, wrapping one arm around him and pulling him to her. He snuggled against her, smiling when Natasha hummed in his ear. "Mama, can we go get the new Toa Matoro, Toa Hahli or Toa Jaller later or during the week?" he asked, looking up at her.

The red-head raised an eyebrow before it clicked what Erik was talking about. "They are the Bionicle characters, right?" she asked, just to make sure.

Erik nodded solemnly. "Toa Nuparu is the ice character. Toa Hahli is the water character. Toa Jaller is the fire character," he replied before adding, "Please and thank you."

Natasha smiled and kissed the top of his head. "If you are good and help Papa with that thing he is planning for you two, yes," she replied.

Erik grinned and kissed her cheek before resting his head in the crook of her neck. "Thank you, Mama," he whispered as Natasha wrapped arms tighter around his small body.

"You're welcome, Erik," she whispered just as Clint entered with Artyom, Lucky on his heels. She raised an amused eyebrow at the sight of her youngest son in his diaper, bare-chested like his father. "What happened?" she asked, making Clint pout at her.

"He wouldn't let me dress him," Clint replied, bemused as he sat down beside Erik, his back against the headboard. "He started kicking when I tried to put on his vest." Lucky climbed onto the bottom of the bed, curling up in a ball and promptly falling asleep; Natasha was jealous of the mutt.

Natasha chuckled. "Aw… Poor baby," she teased, smiling at the sight of Artyom sitting up in Clint's lap, slapping his hands down lightly on Clint's chest as he tried to reach for his father's chain.

Clint pouted at his wife before he was distracted by Artyom's attempts to catch his chain. He smirked when Artyom frowned, the seven-month-old looking at Natasha when she laughed. Erik lifted his head and smiled at his little brother, giggling when Artyom grinned gummily at him.

Natasha caught Clint's eyes, the couple sharing a happy smile as their sons laughed together. Artyom reached for Erik. The four-year-old moved to sit between his parents, holding his arms for his younger brother. Clint raised an eyebrow at Natasha. She slowly nodded, sitting up as Clint gently placed Artyom in Erik's arms. She smiled at the sight, looking up at her husband to find him grinning at the sight of their sons together.

Clint took out his phone, taking a picture of Erik and Artyom smiling at each other. He put it as his wallpaper, lifting his head and smiling at Natasha, both forgetting about everything outside their home for that moment in time….

* * *

Natasha and Clint made their way through HQ's halls, making their way to Fury's office. The Director had called for a meeting between them, Coulson and Hill; meaning it was extremely classified and he only wanted them to know about. When they reached the office, they found Phil pacing in front of the desk while Maria worked through something on the computer. Nick was standing to the side, watching Maria work.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the scene in front of her, twisting slightly to look at Clint. He shrugged, shutting the door behind him. "What's going on?" Natasha asked, making the three superior agents turn to face her and Clint.

"We have a situation," Maria started calmly, her eyes flickering to Phil. "One of Barton's old mentors has recently begun attacking Council Members of the UN. After we had declared him dead."

"Which one? Phil's standing right there," Clint stated, pointing towards said suit.

"This isn't funny, Barton!" Phil suddenly shouted, turning to face him. "You lied to me! When you said he was dead!"

Clint raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Maria as pulled up an image on the projector behind her. Jacques Duquesne's mug-shot came up.

"Barton, you said this man was dead," Phil argued, making Clint look back at him. "You said Duquesne was dead. No longer an issue."

"Obviously, he's not," Clint replied, glaring at his handler. "The last time I saw him, there was a pool of blood around him, he wasn't breathing and there was no emergency services coming. I was seventeen-years-old. How was I supposed to know he could survive that?"

Natasha frowned before interrupting. "What matters now is that he is still alive and is a problem. To a lot of people," she stated, making Phil turn to face her. "What we need to know is who he is working with? Not blaming anyone for anything else."

Phil looked away, making Natasha raise an eyebrow before turning to her husband. He was frowning at Coulson's back too, his fists clenching at his sides. She placed a placating hand on Clint's arm, gently rubbing her thumb along the inside of his arm. He slowly relaxed beside her, sharing a look as Coulson brought up various images onto the screen. There was various scenes of Duquesne attacking UN Council Members.

"He could be working with various terrorist groups. All with problems with the UN," Maria informed the two assassins. "At the moment, we're not sure what his main goal is. If he has one at all."

Natasha looked at Clint. He slowly nodded. "Duquesne wants revenge against Clint, Barney and Buck Chisholm," Natasha confessed, making the superior officers turn and look at them in surprise.

"When did he approach you?" Nick asked, looking at Clint.

"Chisholm approached me," Clint replied. "End of my last mission. Duquesne kidnapped Chisholm's granddaughter. Chisholm came to me for help."

"Did you agree?" Phil asked, looking at him. "You've always been a sucker for people in trouble."

Clint glared at him. "So Mel is seeing someone who's not you, big deal," he shot back, making Phil's face drop. "I know it hurts, I know you're angry and upset. But you can't take it out on the rest of us, Phil. Nor can you take it out on me. I don't deserve your bullshit."

Phil looked away. "You're right. I'm sorry," he replied. "I have to deal with new recruits. I'll pass on any information that has been found." With that, he left, leaving the office before anyone else could say anything.

Maria looked at Clint. "Who is Mel seeing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Andrew Garner. He's one of the new psychologists S.H.I.E.L.D. has employed," Clint replied. "Obviously, Phil isn't happy about it."

Nick and Maria shared a look before slowly nodding at Clint's revelation. "We won't be partnering them for a while," Nick commented drily. "Did Chisholm reveal anything about what Duquesne wanted?" he asked, not wanting to dwell on the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s oldest team, apart from Clint and Natasha, was on the verge of collapsing.

"Chisholm wants Barney and I to help him rescue his granddaughter. Said we were the only ones who could help him. Told me that Duquesne took Olivia to gain revenge against Chisholm for letting me and Barney escape from our last crime together," Clint informed them. "Duquesne used to abuse a lot of the kids at the circus. He raped Buck's daughter, Victoria. But she was too scared to tell her father. When Barney and I found out, we stopped him. Started hanging out with Victoria a lot more, not giving a chance for Duquesne to hurt her again. And when we informed Buck, he made plans for us to betray Duquesne. Buck left him for dead as he let us escape."

Natasha looked at her husband, surprised to hear him tell Nick and Maria so much of his past.

"Is Olivia Victoria's daughter?" Maria asked, leaning back to look at the archer.

Clint nodded. "Olivia is Victoria's youngest child. Duquesne got Victoria pregnant when she was seventeen. Barney claimed it was his to throw Duquesne off before the last hit. It worked. Victoria has four kids now, happily married and has a steady job. Then Duquesne found out where she was and kidnapped Olivia. After finding out that Alexander was his. Claiming it was retribution for stealing Alexander away from him."

Maria brought her hands to her face. "Why? Why can't bastards leave their kids alone?" she asked, lifting her head.

Natasha frowned at her words before remembering that Maria didn't have that good of a relationship with her father. "What's the play?" she asked, looking at the older agents in front of her.

"Barney and I should see what Chisholm wants to do. How he wants to play it," Clint answered. "If it is too dangerous, we can change our play. Bring in support from outside."

Natasha watched as Nick and Maria shared a look. Nick turned back to Natasha. "What do you think?" he asked.

She didn't bother to look at Clint. "I don't like not having Clint's back. Not that I don't trust Barney but you always trust yourself more than you trust anyone else… But, for now, it's the best play we can make," she answered honestly.

Nick nodded. "Okay. We will create a joint F.B.I.-S.H.I.E.L.D. case to alone Barney to join you. Should cover him," he started. "What do you need?"

Clint tilted his head. "You're going to regret asking that, Sir," he replied…

* * *

Clint smiled as he worked with Erik, showing the four-year-old how to sand down the wood properly. The little boy had his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he kept his hands on his father's hands, guiding the sander over the wooden piece. Clint pressed a soft kiss to his oldest son's head, smiling as his little boy concentrated on the task at hand.

"Papa, will I be going to school?" Erik suddenly asked as they finished the downward motion.

Clint paused in his motions. "If you want to go to school, you can go to school," he slowly replied. "If you want to be home schooled, that's okay too." Clint and Natasha had discussed their options; if their boys wanted to go to public school they could. If they wanted to be home schooled, Ashley had agreed to do exactly that.

Erik bit his bottom lip in thought. "I don't know, Papa," he stated, pulling his hands away from the wood. Clint placed the sander on the table, letting Erik turn to look at him. "I… I don't know what the other kids will think of me," he confessed.

Clint tilted his head to the side, surprised by Erik's words. "Why?" he asked, lifting Erik so he was looking Clint in the eye.

"Because of my accent. And that I'm very smart like Auntie Eva said," Erik answered. "Kids don't like other kids being smarter than them."

Clint frowned and pulled his oldest son close. "Aw, Buddy," he whispered, hugging the four-year-old. "I don't think the kids at your school will not like you just because you are smart," he whispered, lifting Erik's head. "I think you will make a lot of friends at school who will like you for you being so smart."

Erik bit his bottom lip before looking back at the table. "Can we finish the bow?" he asked, diverting the topic.

Clint raised an eyebrow at him and slowly nodded; Natasha was teaching Erik bad habits about diverting subjects they didn't want to talk about. Not that he could say much about that himself. "Okay… So we got to string up the bow. Make sure that you can pull back the string but that it won't hurt you to do so," Clint explained as Erik turned back around to look at the bow on the table. "Shall we start?" Erik nodded, turning to smile at his father over his shoulder. Clint returned his smile and grabbed the string. "Okay, so this end goes here…."

* * *

Clint was sitting with Erik and Lucky on the floor of the living-room, helping his son making his new Bionicle figures. Clint was reading the instructions manual when somebody knocked on the door. He raised an eyebrow and looked at his son. "Can you continue without me, Buddy?" he asked as he stood up.

Erik nodded, paying close attention to his different sets. Clint kissed the top of Erik's head before making his way to the front door as Natasha exited Artyom's room with the seven-month-old dressed and in her arms. She raised an eyebrow at him, making Clint shrug in reply. "Erik's in the living-room," he informed her. She nodded and made her way into the living-room while Clint went to the door.

"Are you an idiot?" Barney hissed at his younger brother when Clint opened the door.

Clint sighed and opened the door further, letting Barney in. "No," he answered as he shut the door. "The video is real, Barn," he added, making his older brother pause.

"You sure?" he asked, spotting Natasha soothing Artyom in the living-room, the seven-month-old curled against his mother's chest. "Does Natasha know?"

Clint nodded, looking in at his family. "Her exact words were that if you're weren't in this that she wasn't going to let me do this alone," he replied, smiling as Erik played with Lucky in the living-room while Natasha sat with Artyom.

Barney noticed the look on Clint's face. "Chisholm nearly killed you the last time he saw you," he pointed out, making Clint look at him. "How can we trust him?"

"His granddaughter," Clint replied. "And Chisholm has cancer," he added, making Barney look at him in surprise. Clint shrugged. "Natasha did some digging."

Barney looked out at Natasha before turning back to Clint. "Your wife is one smart cookie."

Clint smiled. "She sure is. Are you in? I don't expect anything, Barn."

The older of two brothers shook his head. "I'm in. This is our past. Not Nat's, not Ashley's. Although, I know Natasha's not going to want to stand on the side lines."

Clint snorted. "She could take down at least twenty trained men and walk away with nothing more than a complaint that they can't fight properly," he stated, making Barney laugh.

"She does have a wicked right hook," Barney agreed, grinning knowingly at him. "I've witnessed her using it on you. It was pretty funny."

* * *

Natasha watched Clint and Barney speak in hushed voices. Artyom was teething and didn't want to be put down, curling against the red-head's chest while Erik continued to make his new Bionicle character sets on the rug in the living-room. Erik laughed when Lucky stood up and began licking the boy's face, trying to distract Erik from the task at hand but to no avail.

Natasha turned her head back to her oldest son, smiling as he laughed loudly as Lucky licked at his face. Artyom lightly snored against the spot where he had rested his head on his mother's breast.

"Aw, Lucky," Erik complained, sounding like his father without coffee as the one-eyed Labrador continued to lick at his face. "Want to get these finished. Please?" he begged, point at the three Bionicles lying half-completed on the floor in front of him.

Natasha whistled, making Lucky pause and look up at her. She patted the spot beside her, raising an eyebrow when Lucky's tail wagged happily; Natasha usually didn't want the dog on the couch. He pulled away from Erik and leaped onto the couch beside the red-head, curling up against her. "That better?" she asked Erik.

Erik smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mama," he replied before he returned to making his toys.

Artyom whined lightly, nuzzling against Natasha's breasts. She pressed a soft kiss to his head, smiling as he gripped the collar of her top. Standing, she made her way out to the kitchen to prepare a bottle for the seven-month-old. Clint turned his head, smiling at her as she walked in with Artyom in her arms. "Everything okay?" he asked, interrupting his conversation with Barney. Natasha nodded, pointing at the bottle beside him as she took out the formula. Clint grabbed the bottle and walked over to her.

Barney smirked at the two. He pointed to the living-room and informed them, "I'm going to say hello to Erik." He left them alone, smirking smugly and knowingly at the two of them.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her husband as he stood behind her. Clint rested his head on her shoulder, smiling when Artyom lifted his head to look at his father. "Hey, Little Hawk," Clint greeted, pressing his lips to Artyom's forehead. "Your mouth still hurting you?" he asked rhetorically, bringing one hand from Natasha's waist to gently stroke a finger along Artyom's cheek.

Natasha leaned into Clint's body as she measured out the formula for Artyom's bottle. "He refuses to leave my arms," Natasha told her husband, twisting her head to look at her son who turned into her, nuzzling his head against her cheek.

Clint pulled away and took over making the bottle. "Anything we can do for him?" he asked, feeling helpless that his little boy was in pain and he could do nothing about it.

"I'm still breastfeeding which is making it easier for him," Natasha replied. "But now that I'm back at work, we decided to start reducing the breastfeeding to twice a day. If he starts crying, Eva told me to use the Bonjela teething gel."

Clint bit his bottom lip. "Do we have any?" he asked, lifting his head from where he was preparing the bottle.

Natasha nodded and lifted her head from where she had her mouth pressed against Artyom's temple. "I got it earlier. Don't worry," she whispered, kissing his cheek. "I had Eva check him. He's teething, nothing else," she promised him.

Clint sighed and slowly nodded. Natasha rested her head against Clint's cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his racing pulse. "I feel so helpless, Tasha," he whispered, bringing a hand to gently rest on the top of his son's head.

She closed her eyes. "There are some things you can't keep him from experiencing Clint," she whispered, "No matter how much you want to. Nature has to take place."

Clint pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Doesn't mean I have to like it," he whispered.

"I don't like it either," she replied, lifting her head to look him in the eye. "But we can only do so much for him. He'll grow out of it eventually," she whispered before kissing him softly. "Trust me."

"I do trust you," he whispered, smiling softly as Artyom whined and reached for Clint when the archer shook the bottle of formula.

"Somebody's hungry," Natasha stated, smiling as Clint gently took Artyom in his arms. "Now you can tend to him, Papa," she whispered, kissing her husband softly. Clint hummed against her lips before she pulled back. "Have you and Barney come to a decision?" she asked.

Clint nodded as he fed Artyom his bottle. "Yeah. We'll meet up with Buck. Make sure he's not playing us. Victoria has reached out to us too. Barney helped set her up with her job and her husband. Like I did for Kate and America Chavez," Clint replied.

"Do this for Victoria then," Natasha whispered. "Forget about the idea that you're doing this for Chisholm. Think of it as doing it for Victoria."

Clint took a breath and nodded. Natasha smiled and kissed him. "Come on. Let's make sure Erik hasn't killed Barney yet," she whispered as she pulled away, smirking smugly when Clint grinned at her. He followed her out into the living-room where Erik was sitting on Barney's chest, smirking as he continued to make Toa Nuparu. Barney was frowning at his nephew before looking at Natasha and Clint when they entered.

Natasha raised an amused at her brother-in-law while Clint snorted.

"You two have been teaching your son bad habits," Barney stated, twisting his head to look at Erik who had raised his head from finishing Toa Nuparu. "I am not a cushion."

Erik smirked. "Mama's more comfortable," the four-year-old agreed. "You would make a good stool," he added as an afterthought.

Natasha and Clint couldn't help but laugh at the look of mock-outrage on Barney's face. He turned to look at the couple. "See? Bad habits. It's disgraceful," he continued.

Clint moved to sit down on the couch, moving so Artyom was more comfortable drinking his bottle. Natasha smirked and perched herself on the arm of the couch. "Did Uncle Barney try to tickle you, Erik?" Natasha asked, making Erik grin as he looked up from Toa Nuparu.

"Yes. He didn't think Lucky would help me beat him," Erik replied proudly, making Lucky bark when the four-year-old said the dog's name.

"Your own fault," Natasha told her brother-in-law. "You shouldn't try to out-do my son again," she warned him.

Barney pouted and looked back at Erik who had gone back to making his toy. "Do not teach my kids how to do this," he instructed the four-year-old.

"No promises," Erik replied, holding up Toa Nuparu. "Finished!" he cheered, making Natasha grin.

"Well done," Natasha replied, holding her arms out for the four-year-old. He nimbly removed himself from his perch on Barney's chest and raced over to his mother, easily climbing into his mother's arms. He grinned as he handed the toy. "That is very cool," Natasha admired, inspecting the toy. "Well done, Erik," she repeated, kissing her son's cheek.

"Thank you, Mama," he replied, hugging her as he smiled. "Now I have to finish Toa Jaller and Toa Hahli," he stated seriously. Natasha kissed his cheek again.

"Go for it," she whispered, letting him down to move back to the other two character sets he had yet to finish completely.

Barney moved to sit in the armchair across from Natasha and Clint. "I better get back to Ashley. I had promised to be only an hour," he stated. "Her parents are over."

"Avoiding your in-law's?" Clint teased, making Barney glare half-heartedly at him in reply.

"No," Barney replied. "But I did get a sudden new case that frightened the crap out of me," he stated, standing up. "How many times have I told you not to do that to me?"

Clint tilted his head before grinning. "This is the first time, actually," he stated, making Barney groan.

"Goodbye," Barney stated, kissing Natasha's cheek before ruffling Erik's head. "Wreck your daddy's head for me, Erik," he requested as Natasha walked with him out to the front door.

"No promises, Uncle Barney," Erik called out with a cheeky grin, making Clint snort as Artyom pulled away from his bottle. Clint gently moved Artyom into a sitting position, helping the seven-month-old get up any wind up. Erik grinned at his little brother when Artyom burped loudly. Erik climbed up beside Clint, grinning when Artyom reached for him.

"Lean back against the back of the couch," Clint instructed. Erik did as he was told, smiling when Clint gently placed Artyom on Erik's lap. Erik kept a hand behind Artyom's back despite the fact Artyom was pretty sturdy. Erik grinned up at his father, Clint smiling back at his son. Clint leaned back in the couch, keeping one arm around Erik's waist and using it to pat Lucky's head.

* * *

"You know I'll have Clint's back out there, right?" Barney asked as he and Natasha reached the door.

Natasha smiled weakly at her brother-in-law. "That doesn't stop me from worrying," she replied.

Barney placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "I promised I'll bring him back home to you, Nat. Ashley would kill me if we didn't come home together," he stated with a small grin. "And there is no way I'm leaving my kids or yours without their father."

Natasha nodded. "You better not," she warned him.

Barney grinned. "I've seen your right hook… And heard rumours about your thighs. I know not to piss you off," he replied. "I'll see you later, Nat."

"Drive safe, Barney," Natasha replied. "Say hello to Ashley."

"Will do," he replied. With that, he was gone. Natasha shut the door and locked it before returning to the living-room. She smiled at the sight of Erik sitting with Artyom in his lap beside Clint, Lucky curled up beside the four-year-old, the dog's head against Erik's thigh. She leaned against the doorframe, admiring the view in front of her. And no one was going to take it away from her…


End file.
